


Occurrences

by Monsterfacedgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adopted Children, F/F, Family, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, OCs - Freeform, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 86,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterfacedgirl/pseuds/Monsterfacedgirl
Summary: Hermione's parents don't pick her up at the end of her first year. Instead, she went home with a different family. Follow the brightest witch of her age, trying to get through her fourth year. AU, OC, OOC Will be Fleurmione endgame, but a bit of a slowburn
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 361
Kudos: 1505





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is my first fanfiction, so be gentle! The first few chapters are about Hermione over her first few summers. Will follow the first 3 books, but then go AU from the fourth. Eventual Fleurmione. Everything belongs to Rowling!

Hermione Granger was many things. Muggleborn. Witch. She was the brightest witch of her age for crying out loud. However, for all her book smarts, she couldn't quite work out where her parents were.

Hermione had just completed her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and now sat alone just inside the entrance to Kings Cross, her trunk propped up by her feet. She had last seen her parents at Christmas, and whilst they seemed like they understood her first term at the school, there was a distance there that even the 12 year old had picked up on. They had sent her a few letters since then, and Hermione had assumed that they were too busy to answer the rest of her letters.

Either way, it had been several hours since she had gotten off the Hogwarts Express, waving goodbye to Ron and Harry, and waiting for her parents to show. Hermione had, of course, tried ringing her house phone, having found a few muggle coins in her pockets, but received no answer, and opted for leaving a rather uneasy voicemail. As time ticked on, Hermione wondered if her parents had forgotten about her. They weren't overly fond of her being a witch, let alone going to a school so far away. Perhaps they were running late at their practise, last minute appointments, or even an emergency.

The station guard that had spoken to Hermione earlier, kept looking over at her. She knew why, of course. It's not every day a 12 year old is left alone on a train platform. She had put him at ease earlier, claiming her parents were merely running late. However, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if they had truly left her alone here.

That last thought ran through her head, and she couldn't help the tears that started running down her face. Hermione hid herself behind her bushy hair, and tried her hardest to start thinking of other ideas, of ways to get help. She could always owl her head of house, Professor McGonagall, see if there was a way to stay at Hogwarts over the summer. She could hide in the library.

As soon as that idea came, Hermione snorted. There was no way for her to owl her professor, and she was silly to think they would even want to come get her. No, there has to be another way. Perhaps she could hide in Diagon Alley, she did have a bit of money left over, enough to perhaps get some food.

Hermione kept running ideas through her head, trying to come up with a plan, leaving her tears to fall freely. So much so was she in her own head did she not even realise someone had sat next to her.

"I'll show you mine, if you show me yours?" Hermione jumped out of her seat, turning her attention to the rather amused woman next to her.

"What on earth are you on about?" she whispered, clutching her wand in her pocket tightly. This woman couldn't possibly know about Hogwarts, could she? It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she learnt this year.

The older woman motioned for Hermione to sit down, and once she had, placed a finger against her lips with a wink. The woman's wand appeared in her hand, and with a flick, a little spark flew out the end.

"Now your turn, if you don't mind?" The woman asked, her eyes dropping to where Hermione's hand still gripped her own wand in her pocket.

Nodding, Hermione pulled it out, letting it rest in her hand, still uneasy about this witch sitting next to her.

"I'm Rhosmari. Well, just Ros for short, unless I'm in trouble" Hermione nodded, her tears had stopped falling for a moment.

"Hermione Granger, lovely to meet you" Hermione replied. She may not understand why the witch was sitting next to her, but she wouldn't let her manners slip by the way.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Hermione" Ros hesitated for a second, seeming unsure of her next words. "What brings you to Kings Cross, so late after the Hogwarts Express?"

Hermione couldn't help the tears that spilled over, and ducked her head again, biting her lip to stop sounds from coming out. "My - my parents"

Ros cooed, quickly pulling the younger girl into her arms, humming softly at her. "It's okay, Hermione, shush, you're alright now, I promise"

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Hermione sobbing into Ros's shoulders, and the older witch rubbing her back, humming an unfamiliar song into her hair. They pulled apart, Ros laughing, as Hermione' stomach decieded to - rather loudly - remind them that she hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning. The younger girl blushed, and kept her head down.

"Hermione - I - look" Ros started, thinking hard about how to approach the subject gently. "How about you stay with me. And before you start thinking - it's not a trap, I have a, well, a small family, and my partner wouldn't mind really."

Ros stopped herself from rambling, and instead lifted Hermione's head, making them lock eyes. Ros could see the hesitation in the girl's eyes, but eventually, there was a little nod. Barely. But it was there nonetheless, and Ros smiled brightly. With a quick glance around, ensuring that they weren't being watched, Ros flicked her wand at Hermione's trunk, making it shrink to the size of a book. Giving a smirk at Hermione's delighted expression, Ros placed Hermione's trunk in her pocket.

Hermione followed Ros out of the station, frowning at how dark the sky had become. They walked along the road in silence, Ros's arm wrapped over Hermione's shoulders. After a minute, they ducked into an alleyway.

"Have you ever apparated before Hermione?" Ros asked, breaking the silence that had started from when they left the station. When she saw Hermione shake her head, Ros continued. "It's a bit like going through a tube. But very tight. It is the quickest way to get to the house, I'm afraid. It'll take seconds"

Before Hermione could react, Ros gripped her arm tighter, turning on the spot. Instantly, Hermione felt a tug, and felt herself being pressed into Ros's side. Almost as soon as it started, the younger witch felt her legs giving out under her. They paused for a moment, Ros letting her catch her breath, holding her up.

"I'm sorry, it does get easier with time. I'm quite impressed though! Most people throw up the first time" Ros smiled uncertainly at Hermione, still gripping the younger witch to keep her upright.

"I'm good. I think" Hermione replied, still trying to regain some control over her breathing. As she stood up, she turned to the gates they were standing in front of. More important than the ravens woven into the metal gates was the large house at the end of the drive. Hermione realised that this was less a house for a small family, as Ros had said, but rather a large mansion, for many, many people.

The two witches had made their way through the gates, and were strolling up to the doorway of the mansion. Ros had started to explain that this was her family's home, and had been in for generations.

The door swung open in front of them, Hermione suddenly started feeling a lot more nervous, and hid behind Ros.

"We'll go straight to the kitchen, everyone else would have eaten by now" Ros explained, navigating through the foyer, to the kitchen. "After we've eaten, I'll show you to your room, and you can meet everyone tomorrow. It's been an awfully long day, and I'm sure you'd rather spend tonight in peace, unpacking?"

"Yeah, that would be great. Thank you Ros" Hermione couldn't help the next onslaught of tears, the older witch had been so nice, and so welcoming, and Hermione was just so tired.

They sat on a chair, Hermione wrapped carefully in Ros's arms. She barely paid any attention to her surroundings, and only looked up to see a plate of food in front of her. Hermione's stomach grumbled again, and she ate quickly, just wanting to go to bed and sleep away this nightmare.


	2. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to only have a couple of chapters before moving onto the fourth year - however, I don't want to rush it too much! Enjoy!

Hermione awoke with a start, breathing heavily. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and it took her a while to realise why she wasn’t in her purple bedroom with her parents. Of course, once yesterday’s events came crashing back, she couldn’t help the tears, curling into herself. 

Her parents - if she dared called them that - left her. 12 years old, left alone on a train platform. Maybe it was all a mistake, Hermione wondered. Maybe her parents got the days mixed up. Maybe they were there today - wondering where she was. Her tears were coming more now, picturing her parents, her loving, kind, parents, crying on the same bench she was on yesterday. Or maybe, they weren’t as accepting as they seemed about their only daughter being a witch. Or going to Hogwarts. Maybe it was all too much for them.

Hermione laughed to herself, still buried in her covers. She was the brightest witch of her age. Surely she could work out when her own family don’t want her around anymore. Hermione didn’t feel that smart anymore.

A thought suddenly struck the witch. A horrible thought, causing Hermione to quickly grab her wand off the side. Ros was a complete stranger. A nice stranger admittedly. But a stranger. And Hermione, the supposedly smartest witch of age. Just left with her. To a random house. And she didn’t even know the woman’s last name.

Just great, Hermione thought darkly, she’s just gone and ignored every stranger danger lesson she had to sit through in her primary school. The witch gripped her wand tighter, knuckles turning white against the wood. Hermione berated herself quietly, imaging what Ron and Harry would say to her if they had known what she did.

A knock at the door made Hermione jump, her wand suddenly pointing at it. She wasn’t sure what spell she could even use. She couldn’t even use magic outside of Hogwarts with the Trace. Hermione racked her brains, trying to think of some way she could possibly beat the older witch without getting herself expelled from Hogwarts.

Another knock, and then the door was pushed open slightly. A familiar head popped around, glancing at the wand Hermione still had pointed at the door. Katie Bell, the second year Gryffindor, walked just inside the room, hands up in surrender.

“Hermione, you alright? You’re safe here, trust me.” The witch walked carefully over, reaching over to push the wand slowly down. 

“Katie - what - where -” Hermione stuttered, still feeling not quite like the bright witch she was meant to be.

“Ros brought you here last night. She owns this house, last of her line, or something” Katie started, sitting down next to the younger girl. She bit her lip, thinking about how to continue. “Ros decided, years ago, that rather than living it large with her partner, they’d invite people to stay. Well, Hogwarts students specifically.” 

Katie’s own eyes had a glimmer of tears in, and she looked out the window, rather than at Hermione. She took a deep breath before continuing. “They take in students whose parents don’t want them. Whether that’s muggle parents who don’t want the nonsense of the magical world. Or students who aren’t quite up to their parents standards. My mum died, just before I started my first year. Dad’s a muggle, and didn’t understand anything. Mum was a witch. Dad didn’t want me to go to Hogwarts, or do anything magical really. Just followed mum because he loved her so much. Couldn’t look me in my eyes after she died.”

Hermione went to interrupt, as a tear spilled down Katie’s cheek. However, the second year continued talking. “He just didn’t understand it. I spent the whole year trying to work out a way to stay, or somewhere to go. It wasn’t until the summer term did my dad finally write to me, saying he felt it would be better if I didn’t return home. Nearly Headless Nick told me to go speak to the Grey Ghost - Ravenclaws ghost - and she told me to owl Ros.” The chaser paused for a minute, a small smile breaking out on her face. “Mind you, she hasn’t spoken to me since. Just said owl Rhosmari. Cryptic much. She then just disappeared back through a wall. Anyway - Ros and I owled a bit, and then she met me at Kings Cross after school had finished.”

“I didn’t know - oh Katie I’m sorry!” Hermione couldn’t help the tears that spilled down her cheeks, allowing the chaser to pull her into a hug. “How many students are here?”

“There’s now 11 of us, a few of them finished this year and have managed to get their own places.” Katie rested her head on top of Hermione’s head, letting the witch soak everything in. “A few from every house. If I had known Hermione, I would have told Ros, got you to come with us earlier in the day. I’m sorry”

Hermione finally managed to stop the tears, shaking her head. “I didn’t know. I mean. They were a bit off at Christmas, but I just thought they were busy, you know?”

Still wrapped in an embrace, they both laughed when their stomachs rumbled. Katie lent back, eyeing Hermione carefully. “There were a few of us still awake last night, we saw you come in. Figured you might need a certain friendly faced tour guide”

Hermione smiled at the other girl, nodding slowly, before getting out of bed. She finally managed to look around the room Ros had half-carried her to last night. Katie stayed on the bed, giving Hermione some space.

It was a large room, with a huge window looking over the grounds. Hermione wandered over to the bay seat, fingers trailing along the soft material of the cushions. Her trunk was at the end of the bed, enlarged back to it’s normal size. Finally, Hermione’s eyes landed on a desk, opposite the window, where there already were a few quills, normal muggle pens, parchment, and notebooks.

She stopped herself from going straight over to it, instead realising that she was still in her same clothes as yesterday, a blush spreading across her cheeks. 

Katie then spoke up, rising from the bed. “I’ll wait outside for you, we’ll go down to breakfast together” Smiling, the chaser left the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

Not wanting to waste time, or indeed, have more embarrassment from her stomach rumbling again, Hermione quickly dug through her trunk. She opened a door near the wardrobe, and found an en suite bathroom, so brushed her teeth. Hermione thought about attempting to brush her hair, but shrugged and finished getting changed.

Making her bed, Hermione realised that she hadn’t quite paid attention last night, and if her room was this big, what would the rest of the house be. A few minutes after Katie had left, Hermione opened the door to see the older chaser throwing and catching a small bean bag. Katie smiled, and led the way down the hallway, allowing Hermione to pay attention to her surroundings. The hall was a mix of light and dark blue, with ravens flying across the walls. At the top of the stairs there was a portrait of a raven haired woman, oddly still for a wizard painting. 

Making a mental note to take a closer look later, the girls walked down the stairs, going through the foyer. The foyer, Hermione determined, was definitely grander than the upstairs hallway, screaming wealth and power. There was even a small hum of magic in the air.

Katie led her into a side door, finding themselves in the dining room, a large table in the middle. Around the table there were 13 spaces, only 10 filled. Realising that two spaces were for the Gryffindors, Hermione allowed herself to be sat down, Katie keeping close.

The conversation that had been happening stilled, eyes turning to face the youngest witch. Hermione ducked behind her head, not wanting the attention of her fellow students.

“Ah - Hermione! You’re awake!” Hermione glanced up to see Ros standing at the end of the table, smile fixed in place. “I hope you slept well?”

“It was okay, thank you” The witch replied quietly, taking a moment to finally have a good look at the other woman. Ros had her dark hair tied back, although it was a messy bun. She was wearing a hoodie and joggers. Hermione suppressed the giggle at seeing a witch in such muggle attire.

Hermione finally glanced around the table to see the other students looking at her. There were a few she recognised, although only by seeing them around, and none by names. Katie placed a hand on her knee, looking carefully at the younger girl. 

Ros clapped her hands together, drawing the attention from Hermione. “Right well, let’s all get eating. We can do introductions afterwards?”

There was a general murmur of agreement, and the students started eating their breakfast, conversation flowing again. Hermione just sat looking at her plate blankly, suddenly not feeling all that hungry.

“Hey, you’re alright, eat something, otherwise Maribel will force feed you!” One of the students - a Hufflepuff, fifth year, if Hermione remembered correctly - told the younger witch, laughing, and then throwing a wink to Ros.

“I’m sorry, but Maribel?” Hermione asked, looking around the table for clues. 

Ros blushed, deciding to answer Hermione herself “Maribel’s my wife, Hermione. Due to someone” glaring playfully at a sixth year Slytherin, who sheepishly looked at his plate “wanting to practise brewing a potion, and then blowing up a calduren, she just popped out to try and pick a new one up. She should be home soon. And Hannah’s right, she won’t hesitate to force feed you!” There was a round of laughter, and even Hermione felt herself smiling, finally pouring herself some cereal.

After breakfast, they made their way into a lounge area, which was decorated with photos, some moving, some not. What drew Hermione’s eye though was a muggle TV, and a large bookcase of movies. They all introduced themselves, and acted surprisingly like siblings. It seemed any house rivalry was purely for Hogwarts.

Katie had kept close to Hermione, obviously realising that the younger witch needed a bit of support, and a familiar face. Suddenly, the front door slammed, making Hermione jump. The Slytherin - Martin, Hermione reminded herself - leaned further into the armchair he was sat on, almost wishing it would swallow him. 

“Maribel!” Ros shouted excitedly, standing up from her chair.

Katie lent towards Hermione, whispering in her ear. “Ros and Maribel have been married for a few years, and they’re so in love it’s sickly sometimes.” The two girls giggled, and then jumped when someone coughed behind them

“Katie, it’s rude to whisper you know?” The girls turned around to face the woman, who had a large smile on her face. Hermione couldn’t help but blush at the witch. She was stunningly pretty, dirty blonde hair framing her face. “You must be Hermione Granger, right? Ros told me about you last night. I’m Maribel, Ros’s better half.” Ros had moved around the room to hold the blonde’s waist.

Hermione nodded, “Uh, yes, this is a wonderful house” a blush formed on the younger witch’s cheeks. “Thank you”

Maribel waved her hand, “It’s no worry, we just want to help. Have you been around the ground yet?”

Hermione shook her head, her voice growing quieter “No, not yet.”

Ros smiled widely, “I was going to recommend going around the house first, then the grounds? Afterwards you can unpack?”

Before Hermione had a chance to respond, Amy - a fourth year Ravenclaw - laughed loudly. “Perhaps it would be better to show Hermione the grounds first? I’d imagine you won’t ever get her to leave the library.” Amy’s tone was teasing, her eyes lighting up showing she meant nothing more than playful teasing. It was a far cry from the start of Hermione's year at Hogwarts, and even the odd comment from Ron about her reading habits.

The witch in question merely ducked her head, as the other students did a better job at containing their laughter. 

“So we have a little Ravenclaw on our hands then?” Ros asked, leaning forward. There was excitement in her eyes. Hermione caught her eyes, and she spotted something else there, but she wasn’t quite sure what.

Katie pulled Hermione closer, giggling slightly. “You wish Ros! Little Granger here is a proud Gryffindor!”

“Ah - a shame, I’m sure you would be amazing in Ravenclaw” There was a slight disappointment in Ros’s voice, but before Hermione could question it, Maribel cut in.

“Right, now, Martin.” Maribel’s voice had taken on a sharper edge, having seen the Slytherin trying to sneak out the room with two others. “No more explosions. Otherwise I’ll leave your eyebrows off.”

“Of course Maribel. I wouldn’t dream of it” Martin replied coolly, avoiding anyone’s eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

It was nearly lunchtime by the time Ros had finished showing Hermione the house. The pair had made easy conversation about Hermione’s first year at Hogwarts. They stopped outside a double door, somewhere near the back of the house. Oddly, it was the only door in this hallway, and it was right in the middle of the hall.

“Right, last stop here Hermione” Ros clasped her hands together, a nervous energy about her. Before Hermione could question it, the doors swung open.

Hermione couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her. The room inside was huge - she couldn’t even see the other end. She wandered forward, fingers reaching up to trail the closest bookcase. This library seemed far larger than Hogwarts own, each bookcase crammed full with books upon books.

Ros had paused in the doorway, watching the younger witch easily. “The family library. With every generation comes more books. There’s muggle novels, facts, fiction. Spellbooks, potion books. Anything you could possibly imagine. It’ll be here.”

Hermione turned to the other witch, this whole situation seemed too good to be true. Her fears this morning turned around completely. For a moment, Hermione had forgotten all about her parents.

Ros continued, working out she wouldn’t be getting an answer out of the witch for a while. “You can take anything, stay here as long as you like. Merlin, take books with you to Hogwarts next year if you really want to!” Ros laughed, moving forward to laze back in an armchair. She motioned for the younger witch to join her, which she did.

They sat in silence for a minute; Hermione looked around eagerly, eyes drinking in the fountain of knowledge she was surrounded in. Ros waited for Hermione’s eyes to land back on her, a smile tugging her lips.

Ros sat forward, seeming so serious for once. “Right, I’m sure you have questions, and it doesn’t matter how long it takes, so ask away!”

Hermione fiddled with the bottom of her top nervously. So much had changed, so quickly, where to even begin? She cleared her throat, teeth still tugging on her lip. “Why?” she mumbled.

“Why what?”

“Why were you there? Why did you come up to me? Why are you helping me? Why did they leave me alone?” The questions tumbled out of Hermione’s mouth before she could stop them. The last question was barely a whisper, tears, previously long forgotten, came rushing back.

Ros stared at the crying witch for a second, lost in thought. She started speaking slowly, measuring each word. “I always wait in Kings Cross on the last day. I watch for the students left behind. During my time at Hogwarts, I watched each year, classes getting smaller. Students forgotten about. Mostly the muggleborns - sometimes it was students with magical parents, often not performing well enough.” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, before continuing.

“I heard what you said to that train guard. You had already been waiting there so long. There was a part of me that hoped what you said was true, I suppose. When the time kept passing, I couldn’t wait there any longer.”

Hermione nodded, eyes still downcast, tears still slipping down. Ros reached forward, resting a comforting hand on her knees. “As for your parents. Well, they’ve clearly made a huge mistake, Hermione. You are bright, and from what the others have said, loyal completely. Some people just can’t handle change. Or even accept who people are.”

Hermione flung herself forward, hugging the older witch tightly, sobbing into her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do Ros.”

A hand stroked the top of the young girl’s head, humming softly. “Whatever you want to do, little one. If you want a home here, then it’s yours. If you don’t want to tell anyone at Hogwarts, that’s your choice too.” Ros’s voice moved to a more playful tone with her next words, “However, I would warn you, if you leave, Maribel may very well drag you back. Before kicking me on my arse for letting you leave of course. And, trust me, that French woman has a good hex or two up her sleeve”

Both witches laughed, Hermione’s bubbling up in between sobs. “I’m sorry, I just can’t quite believe it completely.”

“It’s okay, it takes time. Katie seems quite protective over you, so she may very well help Maribel” Ros finally managed to catch Hermione’s eyes - fingers titling her chin upwards.

A while later, Hermione managed to almost stop sobbing. She pulled back, rubbing harshly at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that all to come out.” Hermione was still shaking slightly, but was determined to show some Gryffindor bravery and stop crying.

Ros paused, waiting for the younger girl to relax a little. Hermione had been so strong today - she was only 12, but carried herself much older.

Hermione hiccupped, before glancing around the library once more. “So” she started, a playful glint in her eyes. “Why all the ravens?”


	3. Ravenclaws and Spells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this explains a bit more about Ros. I've got a few more chapters planned before that all important fourth year! Enjoy!

Ros sighed, leaning back. She was eying the younger witch carefully, an eyebrow raised. “You noticed it huh?”

“Well it was a bit hard not too,” Hermione retorted. All morning she had seen ravens. The blues. All too familiar blues.

Ros held her hands up in surrender. “Nothing escapes your eyes do they?” Hermione shook her head, waiting for the older witch to answer her question.

A sigh, followed by a smile. “My name is Rhosmari Ravenclaw. The last living heir to the House of Ravenclaw. Many great granddaughter to Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Plenty of other titles in there too, but I’ve never really cared for them.”

The two let an easy silence fall over them. Ros was just happy that Hermione seemed to be ignoring yesterday’s events for the time being. She knew the tears would come again, and again. It was a wound that could never fully heal. But they’d be there for it all. Herself, Maribel, Katie. Ros laughed at herself, even the rest of her family would be there for the young witch, much like they are all there for each other.

“That explains why Nick told Katie to speak to the Grey Lady” Hermione finally broke the silence. Her hands were clasped in her lap, looking up at Ros.

“Yeah, Helena knows all about this.” Ros waved her hand around, “All the ghosts do. Merlin, I wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore knew about it as well. Although I’m surprised that was the first thing you thought of saying!”

Hermione’s cheeks reddened, “What does it mean? Being an heir for the founders?”

“Honestly, not an awful lot. It means I have to sit in on an awful lot of boring meetings with the governors. I have a big say in any matters relating to Hogwarts, of course.” Ros suddenly sat forward, a big smile breaking out across her face. “Funny thing actually - you know how each of the houses have a ghost?”

Hermione nodded, a smaller smile gracing her face.

“Well, technically, Helena is meant to announce my presence in the castle. However, she only speaks the odd word here and there, so Filch has to do it in her place! The last time I visited the castle the man was so out of breath running into the Great Hall he nearly collapsed! He barely started speaking before I walked in! None of the professors seemed happy about it.”

Both girls dissolved into laughter. Ros managed to compose herself first, although Hermione wasn’t too far behind her. Wiping an errant tear, Ros continued speaking: 

“The banners in the Great Hall automatically change to Ravenclaw - made for a funny graduation in my seventh year. My mother, before I started, altered the enchantments surrounding the banners, so they wouldn’t automatically turn whenever I entered the Hall for a meal. She also made it very clear to the professors, and the elves, that I wasn’t to be treated like an heir whilst in school. Didn’t stop the House Elves from calling me ‘Lady Ravenclaw’ whenever they saw me though.”

Hermione nodded, a smile plastered on her face. 

“Right, so before I let you explore the library, I think Maribel has sorted lunch. So let’s go eat, and then maybe you should unpack everything, before losing yourself in here?” Ros seemed a bit uncertain, as she mentioned unpacking, so quickly continued. “That’s if - you want to stay here Hermione? It’s your choice. I’m not about to take that away from you.”

Hermione’s smile slipped off her face, hating herself for not thinking about her parents since this morning. She looked down, her teeth once again playing with her bottom lip. “I’ll stay, if that’s alright?” The witch spoke so quietly, Ros struggled to hear her.

Determined to make the witch happier - and avoid her wife’s wrath - Ros grinned, practically pulling Hermione up with her. They skipped along the hall, down back into the dining room.

As soon as they got through the doors, Hermione was practically dragged into an argument between Amy and Eddie - another Ravenclaw - about the best way to brew a potion. She barely realised how easily the conversation had included her, a far cry from the start of Hermione’s first year.

Before long, they had all finished lunch. Hermione turned down the offer of a playing outside, favouring actually unpacking into her new room. She couldn’t help the tears threatening to fall, the idea that Hermione would never be able to return to her room. She wouldn’t be able to get her possessions, her favourite books. 

Hermione paused at the bottom of the stairs, trying to stop the tears from falling. Huffing, she turned around, deciding to make tea before going to her room. Expecting the kitchen to be empty, Hermione was surprised at seeing the blonde witch staring out the window. When she heard Hermione come in, she turned, surprised, smiling warmly at the younger girl.

“Hello Hermione, are you okay?” Maribel asked, eyes quickly running over the Gryffindor, looking for any sign of injuries.

“I’m okay, thank you” Hermione smiled at the witch. She was suddenly unsure as to whether or not she should be in here.

“Well, would you mind joining me for some tea? My wife seems to have left the chaos already for a trip to the shops.” Maribel had already started waving her wand, kettle and mugs moving around behind her.

“Thank you, that’s why I came in here actually” Hermione joined the witch at the counter, sitting down easily next to each other. Not a second later did the pair find cups of tea in front of them. Hermione wrapped her hands around the cup for warmth.

They both sat in silence, sipping at their cups. “So you’re french?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Yes, although I lost my accent years ago” Maribel replied, smiling warmly at the other witch.

“So you went to Beauxbatons then ?” Hermione continued, feeling like a blanket of warmth had surrounded her.

“Of course! Top of my class in every subject!” Maribel’s pride shone through. “Favourite subject was Runes, but I did enjoy Potions too. What about yourself? Any favourites yet?”

“I think Transfiguration, although Charms is interesting too.” Hermione hadn’t hesitated at her response, meeting the light blue eyes of the french witch.

Maribel paused, humming. “Well, perhaps you wouldn’t mind showing me a spell then?”

Hermione’s eyes widened, startled that Maribel had even thought of the idea. “I can’t! What about the Trace?”

There was laughter erupting from Maribel, she hunched over slightly. She managed to control herself after a moment, waving her hand at Hermione. “ _ Mon dieu _ , the Trace! Do you know that the Trace isn’t overly accurate? It can narrow down to an area, but not the particular person using the magic. The ministry will see magic being used in this house, but two adult witches live here - they’ll assume it’s one of us.”

Almost to prove her point, Maribel waved her wand at their cups, making them rise in the air. The liquid inside rose out, before it all landed softly back on the counter.

Maribel looked pointedly at Hermione. “Right, your turn then!”

Hermione nodded, still not sure, but part of her knew that the woman wouldn’t let it go. Clutching her wand, Hermione eyed her cup. She tapped it three times, and then whispered the spell, “ _ Vero Verto _ ”. 

Her cup in front of her turned into a small mouse. Hermione smiled brightly, quickly cupping the mouse in her hands. Next to her, Maribel laughed, clapping her hands excitedly. “I didn’t know they taught that in the first year at Hogwarts!”

The younger witch blushed, finding herself hiding behind her bushy hair yet again. “No, they don’t. I figured I would read the second year book to get a head start.” Hermione quickly reversed the spell, as the mouse had increased its efforts to get away.

Maribel hugged the witch tightly, still excited about the show of magic. “Well, they did say you were the brightest witch of your age. That was fantastic!”

Hermione mumbled a thank you, blushing at the compliment from the older witch. They stayed in the kitchen for a little bit longer, before Hermione excused herself to finally go unpack her trunk. Maribel waved her off happily, leaving the cups in the sink for later.

Hermione sat on her bed, thinking over the events that day. Sighing, she stretched, reaching for her trunk to unpack, unaware of the conversation happening downstairs.

“Ros.” Maribel called, trying to get her wife to look at her. They were in the front room, Ros having just come back from her trip, seeming intent on wearing a hole in the carpet. “ _ Mon amour _ , look at me”

Finally brown eyes locked with blue, a frown maring Ros’s face. She sighed, allowing Maribel to pull her onto the sofa, and into her embrace. Burying her face into blonde hair, Ros tried to calm herself down.

“They weren’t there, Mari.” Ros finally breathed out, shoulders slumping.

“Any trace of them?”

“None, they hadn’t been there in a while by the looks of it. There was a for sale sign in the garden. I rang the number, apparently it had been on sale since January.”

“Katie mentioned something about Hermione’s parents being dentists? What about where they work?” Maribel pulled her wife closer. As much as she already viewed the young witch as one of their  _ many _ adopted Hogwarts students, there was always a part of her that hoped all wasn’t lost.

“Checked it, it’s being renovated into offices or something. I’ve got a few contacts in the Ministry trying to track them now. The Grangers hadn’t left any forwarding details.” 

Both witches sat soberly on the sofa, Maribel trying to give as much comfort as she could. “I don’t understand how.” At Ros’s questioning look, Maribel continued. “All these years, all these children, I just don’t understand how parents can do this.”

Maribel paused, wiping a stray tear, “Family is the strongest possible bond, and parents throw it away for what? Because a child is magical? Or not performing well? I don’t understand why some people just can’t. In my family, whether you were a squib or magical, there was no disownment. There’s the same level of love! You do not leave the family!”

Ros turned to comfort her wife now, holding her close. “I know, darling. But you know how people react to change.” The heir changed her tone to being more playful, trying to cheer Maribel up by teasing her. “Maybe, it’s more the  _ Veela _ in you reacting so strongly? Having met your mother, I feared that she wouldn’t even let me leave the house”

Maribel gasped, swatting her wife’s shoulder. It had the desired effect though, calming and cheering her.

  
When the students bundled in, both witches swore up and down that they were _not_ having a tickle fight.


	4. Of Flying and Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems to be dragging along, but stick with me! I've got plenty of ideas for future chapters!

After dinner that night, Hermione was sitting at the desk in her room. The sun was starting to set, bathing the room in a soft orange hue. She was so lost in thought, that Hermione didn’t hear someone entering her room.

“Whatcha doing?” Katie drawled, leaning over Hermione’s shoulder.

Hermione jumped out of her chair, clutching at her chest as if it would stop her heart from pounding. “Katie! Don’t do that!”

The Gryffindor chaser just laughed in response. As Katie was trying to calm herself down, Hermione narrowed her eyes at what the witch was wearing - the Gryffindor Quidditch shirt, and far too many layers for someone going to bed.

“Katie, why on earth are you dressed like that?” 

Calmer now, Katie wiped the last few tears from her face, before answering. “Sneaking out! We’re all going out for a mini Quidditch game! The others are outside already, getting brooms. Figured I’d come and steal you away”

Hermione frowned, remembering her flying lessons from the past year. “Katie, you  _ know _ I can’t fly - let alone play a game of Quidditch! I’d much rather get started on my homework”

Katie stared at Hermione. Suddenly the girl played her secret weapon - a huge pout and puppy dog eyes. Smirking inwardly at Hermione’s defense flickering, Katie leaned in, whining at the younger girl; “But ‘ _ Mioneee _ , you can always sit on my broom? I wouldn’t let anything happen to you!”

The girls looked at each other for a minute, before Hermione threw her hands up “Fine! But that isn’t fair at all!”

Katie grinned, dragging Hermione out of her chair. Hermione hurriedly threw a jumper and scarf on, before letting Katie pull her outside silently. As they grew closer to the Quidditch pitch, Hermione started to regret letting Katie convince her to go outside. There was also a part of her that still couldn’t quite believe that there was even a Quidditch pitch on the grounds. 

The bushy haired witch felt her nerves growing more with every step. The rest of the students were already waiting, Eddie and Lily - a 6th year Hufflepuff - opening a Quidditch chest.

As the two joined them, Martin began speaking, “Right so, obviously, the teams aren’t going to be equal, so -”

“Hermione’s flying with me, Martin, so we can be 5 brooms versus 5 brooms” Katie interrupted quickly

Hermione blushed as the Slytherin glanced at them, before nodding and continued. “Okay so 5 v 5. One Keeper, one Seeker, one Beater, and two Chasers. We’ll only use Bludger.” Martin paused, waiting for everyone to nod. “Right, let’s get to it! Everyone gets up in the air, and then I’ll release the balls and throw the Quaffle, to start.”

The 11 of them quickly split into two teams, Katie pulling Hermione over to one side to join Amy, Eddie, Mike - 5th year Hufflepuff - and Luke - another Hufflepuf, but a 3rd year. “Ros always gets new brooms for us to use” Mike explained, seeing Hermione eye the set of black brooms. 

Amy had reached over to pick one up, inspecting it carefully, “These are  _ Nimbus 2001 _ s” she moaned, “I didn’t even know they were out yet!”

Hermione peered closer at the brooms, distrust clear in her eyes. Katie clapped her on the shoulder to bring her focus back to their team. “Okay so me and Mike will be Chasers again - Hermione you’re on my broom okay? Then Luke - you’re okay going in goal again? Amy - Seeker, and Eddie, you’ll be Beater.” 

Everyone nodded, Hermione’s fear skyrocketing. A second later the other 4 had shot off into the sky, whooping at the speeds the brooms reached. Katie reached for the witch, obviously noting how scared she was. “Hey, ‘Mione, look, at any point you’re uncomfortable, let me know - I’ll drop you off in the stands okay?”

Hermione bit her lip, nodding. She didn’t dare speak. As much as she distrusted the broomstick, Katie had made her feel so welcome. Here. At Hogwarts. Katie and Angelina Johnson had come into the bathroom that fateful Halloween night. They’d overheard everything that had been happening. And the week following the troll attack the pair had barely let Hermione out of their sight. They both blamed themselves for leaving Hermione alone in that bathroom, just an hour before the feast started. She trusted Katie on this broom, if nothing else.

Katie grinned as Hermione sat on the back of the broom, arms holding tightly around her waist, clinging to the older girl. On the count of three, they shot up in the air, albeit slowly for Hermione’s sake. 

Hermione had her arms wrapped tightly around Katie, and was trying to keep her eyes open. Martin was still on the ground, which was so far below them now, and had flung balls of light out of his wand - illuminating the pitch brightly. Suddenly, the crate opened, bludgers rattling against their chains. Hermione saw a flash of gold, before the snitch disappeared from view. 

Eddie and Eve - a 4th year Hufflepuff - gripped their bats tighter, eyeing the balls from above. Martin had mounted his broom, joining the others in the sky. Not a second after he threw the quaffle into the air, did he mutter a spell to release one of the bludgers from the chains. 

Before Hermione knew what was happening, Katie had shot forward, easily scooping the quaffle under her arm. They weaved forward, and as Martin went to grab the ball, Katie easily threw it over to Mike. The pair then sharply pulled upward as a bludger came towards them, although Eddie quickly hit it off the path.

Hermione had finally managed to pull some Gryffindor bravery out, just enough to glance over Katies’ shoulder as the three goalposts came closer. Their team all cheered as Eddie faked a throw to the left hoop, then scored through the middle. Hermione found herself relaxing against Katie, but determined not to look down yet. She also didn’t dare loosen her grip yet either. 

Katie was a truly magnificent flier, avoiding the bludgers that came close, even as Hermione flinched.

Their game continued, Amy and Hannah were chasing the snitch around the stands, neck and neck. Hermione’s team were in the lead by 20 points, both teams eager to score more points. 

“Hey Hermione, you feeling comfortable yet?” Katie murmured, keeping an eye on Lily in the opposite goal, looking at someone to throw the quaffle to.

“I guess, why?”

“I’m going to try and tackle Martin when he gets the quaffle. I’ll miss, so can you try and grab it as we fly by?”

Hermione’s face paled at the idea of loosening her grip on the other witch. “I’ll try”

“Right, I’ve got you, don’t worry”

Suddenly, Katie shot off towards Martin, as Lily had thrown the quaffle to him. He kept it tucked under his arm, smirking as Katie’s outstretched arm missed it. Hermione, calling upon the same courage she had when jumping into the trap door under Fluffy, shot her arm out, reaching for the quaffle. Suddenly, said ball was no longer under Martin’s arm, but tucked under Hermione's - decided more shaky - arm.

Eddie and Katie both cheered, the latter mumbling encouragement as the two brooms approached the goals.

“Right Hermione - just throw it, okay? You’ve got this, just one little throw through the hoop”

Katie turned the broom, flying parallel to Lily in goal. As soon as Katie pulled in front of the team’s goalkeeper, Hermione threw the quaffle, watching it arc through the air gracefully. Lily reached out to stop it, barely grazing her fingers on it before it finally went through the hoop.

Hermione’s team cheered loudly, as Katie swung back towards the middle. As the young witch looked around, she could see all the players on the pitch cheering, directed at herself.

Amy dived quickly, and it took a second for Hannah to realise where the other seeker had gone. Before she could chase, Amy had pulled up, a tiny golden snitch clasped in her hands. 

The two teams came back down to the ground, Martin muttering another spell to send all the balls back safely in the chest. Katie had swung around and hugged Hermione tightly, congratulating her on both flying and scoring a goal. Soon the rest of the students had bundled on top of them

They all packed away the brooms, the balls of lights now following the students heading back to the house. They were stopped in their tracks by an annoyed looking Maribel, and an amused Ros.

“What were you guys thinking?” Maribel started, quickly casting warming charms, and checking each of them for injuries. “It’s late, it’s dark, and you all could have been hurt!”

Hannah lent forward, whispering into Hermione’s ear, “Don’t worry, it’s tradition at this point for us all to go out for a match, then come home to Maribel like this. She’ll be over it in a minute”

Maribel turned to the whispering pair with a glare, before sighing and allowing Ros to pull her into an embrace. “Who won this year?” Ros asked, smiling brightly.

“We did of course!” Katie answered proudly. 

“Well, the winning team gets hot chocolate first, so help yourselves. How did it work with 11?”

As they all settled down with their cups, the students regaled the adults with the match, all seeming very proud of Hermione and her score from Katie’s broom. All too soon, the students went upstairs, very sleepy. As Hermione got settled into bed, she couldn’t help wondering as to whether they had spiked the hot chocolate with a sleeping potion.

Hermione awoke with a scream, sitting bolt upright in bed. She was covered in sweat, hands twisting in her cover. Tears streamed down her face, as the door swung open, lights flickering on. Maribel quickly covered the room, pulling the young witch into a hug.

“Shush, shush, Hermione, you’re okay, _tu es là, je t'ai_ , I’ve got you, you’re here, with me.” The blonde whispered into her ear, rocking together on the bed. Hermione grabbed at Maribel’s top, still crying in her arms.

Eventually, Hermione’s tears slowed, although Maribel never let her go, still murmuring sweet nothings into her ears.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Maribel asked softly, holding the girl tight.

Hermione nodded shakily, gratefully accepting the water Maribel had summoned for her. “It was my parents,” her voice was quiet, talking into her shoulder. 

“They had met me at the platform, saying how they didn’t want me, they didn’t want a witch. They had never wanted me. I was weird. They were joined by others, kids at Hogwarts, bullying me, shouting how I was such a  _ filthy mudblood _ , I don’t deserve magic. Then they were hitting me with hexes, curses. Tripping me up, pushing me over. Everything they did to me this year, but all at once. My parents just watched, never saying anything more, never stopped anyone.”

Hermione started crying again, soaking Maribel’s top. “ _ Ma chéri _ e _ ,  _ I’m so sorry, you’re here now, you’re safe.” Maribel began rocking them again, glancing up at her wife in the doorway.

Ros was staring at Hermione, eyes dark with rage as Hermione spoke about her dream. The young witch had told her earlier, as they explored the grounds, that her classmates weren’t fond of her, and how she had become rather good at casting a protective charm over her back every morning. She’d hoped that it was just a precaution, however, she couldn’t ignore the truth laid out in front of her.

Maribel started singing softly, an old French lullaby her own mother sung to her whenever she was upset. Slowly, Hermione’s sobs stopped, her breathing calming down. 

“Can you stay please?” Hermione asked weakly, not brave enough to look at the french witch.

“Of course,  _ ma chéri _ _ e _ , I’ll stay” Maribel’s voice was strong, breaking down on the inside at the poor girl in her arms. Hermione nodded, breathing finally equaling out, falling back to sleep.

Maribel looked at her wife apologetically. Ros shook her head, finally moving across the room. “There’s no need to apologise, love. I get it.” Ros’s voice shook with rage, barely concealed.

Ros reached to stroke bushy hair, looking back at her wife. “I never imagined that children could be so horrible, Mari. I’ll be speaking to Dumbledore tomorrow.”

“He’s lucky I do not go over there now and have him meet the end of my wand!” Maribel’s eyes flashed gold, hinting at her own rage simmering below the surface.

Ros buried her own anger, now focussed on calming down the veela in front of her. Several long minutes later, Maribel had calmed down, still holding Hermione in her arms.

“There’s something there, Ros” Maribel muttered softly, “When I look at her, it’s more than looking at the others. My veela, it’s claimed all our children as our own. But yet, with Hermione, it’s more than family. It’s how my veela claims other veela’s mates. There’s still a child bond, but there’s more.”

Ros thought this over for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. “Maybe our little Hermione still has a few more surprises up her sleeve, my love”

“Perhaps.” Maribel laid down, still holding tightly onto the young witch.

Ros leaned over to kiss her wife, turning to leave the room. She said her goodnight, turning the light off as she went.


	5. Family Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to add more to this chapter, but it seemed a bit heavy by itself, figured I'd leave it how it is! Hopefully the next chapter will be out tomorrow!

Hermione woke slowly, staring at the ceiling above her bed. The smell of breakfast wafting upstairs cutting through the sleep still clinging to her. She stretched, looking around. A flash of sadness wrapped around her at last night's events. Shaking her head to try and rid the thoughts of her nightmare, Hermione made her way to her en suite, starting her morning routine.

A short while later, Hermione found her way downstairs. When she found nobody in the dining room, she wandered into the kitchen. Hermione stood in the doorway, nervous of speaking to the French witch after last night. The brightest witch of her age  _ also _ didn’t quite know what to say about the sight in front of her.

Maribel was dancing along, waving her wand to make plates and pots move around the kitchen. Her dancing, however, was accompanied by her loud singing of some muggle song Hermione vaguely recognised. The young witch just watched silently, a soft - barely visible - golden glow surrounding the blonde witch.

Said glow suddenly disappeared as the witch finally spotted Hermione in the doorway. “ _ Merde _ , Hermione, how long have you been standing there for?” The plates and pots still moved around, although Maribel had come closer to the young girl.

“Not long, I didn’t mean to stare, sorry” Hermione muttered, her embarrassment at last night flooding back.

“That’s fine, it’s no bother!” Maribel seemed happy, although was still eyeing Hermione carefully, watching for any signs of last night’s troubles plaguing her day. “Something tells me you wouldn’t object to a cup of tea though?”

Hermione nodded, silently taking a place near the counter. Suddenly two cups placed themselves down, Maribel quietly taking a seat next to the young girl.

“It’s quite early, Hermione, I don’t expect the others to be up for a while.” Maribel broke the silence, sipping on her tea.

“Why are you up so early?”

The older girl shrugged, turning to face Hermione. “Ros had to leave early. Some meeting or whatever at Hogwarts.”

They relaxed back into silence. Maribel only stood up to collect the post from an owl in the window. Feeding it some treats before it set back off again, Hermione, this time, breaking them from their own thoughts.

“Thank you. For last night. I’m sorry to have woken you up”

“Don’t ever apologise for that, Hermione. Dreams are ones few can control, and shouldn’t be tampered with. They make us think of events past, or show us our fears. It’s never a weakness to have such dreams. Or indeed, nightmares.” Maribel’s reply was softly spoken, placing a comforting hand on her shoulders.

Hermione chewed her lip, mulling over the words. Nodding, both witches turned back to their cups. It had barely been a minute before Hermione spoke again; “Can I ask a personal question? It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“Ask away” Maribel replied airly, turning to give Hermione her full attention.

“How did you and Ros meet?” Hermione figured it would only make her sound insane if she mentioned the glow, brushing it off as tiredness and her eyes playing tricks.

Maribel seemed surprised at the question, blushing deeply as memories flooded her brain. “Before I tell the tale, there’s a little fact you need to know about me” Hermione nodded, leaning closer.

“I am part veela. Half to be exact. It matters little how diluted a veela’s blood is. It is easier to think as the veela, and the witch being two entities, sharing the same body. A creature hidden inside, guiding each other. The biggest difference between full and part veela’s is the transformation. Whilst full veela’s can transform fully into a different form, the more diluted the blood, the lesser the transformation. It is not unlike an animagus, in a way.”

Maribel paused, making sure Hermione was still following. The look the girl had made it obvious that she would be lost in their library later, despite how little it had regarding her kind. It wasn’t unlike the look Ros got in her own eyes sometimes.

“However, do not ever compare a veela to an animagus to their face! But, that matters little in my story. As part of being a veela, is the ability to find a mate. Someone who perfectly compliments themselves. Soulmates, some would say. Now, this isn’t a choice by the veela, but rather magic, choosing them together. Fate. All it takes is a simple look, eyes meeting.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide, reminding Maribel of all the adopted children, the same fairy-tale look in their eyes. 

“When I first saw Ros, I knew, in that instant. Ros was my mate. My forever. I did everything possible to stay close to her. We ran into each other the year before the war ended. Quite literally in fact. We were both running down Diagon Alley, and crashed into each other. However, it was the war, and the last year had been increasingly difficult. So before we could even speak to each other, Death Eaters appeared. We were clearly outnumbered, so Ros grabbed my arm and appareted away.”

“I hadn’t been in England long. I graduated Beauxbatons only earlier that year, and was determined to help the fight against Voldemort. We got speaking after we disappeared to safety, and Ros insisted that I stay with her. Of course, I jumped at the chance, wanting to protect her from the evil outside the grounds. A trait of the veela’s is their protectiveness, and I could not let any harm come to her. Also, it meant that I no longer had to jump from hotel to hotel!”

Both girls giggled at this, Hermione still eagerly latching onto every word spoken. Waving her wand, Maribel silently refilled their cups, and then continued her tale.

“I wanted to be closer to her, Merlin, I wanted to kiss her and take her away to France the moment we locked eyes. However, we both knew we needed to stay for the war. To see it through. It was after a month of living together did we have our first kiss. Our first date was in a hidden part of the garden. Despite the war waging outside, we had our paradise, safe within these wards.”

Maribel had a faraway look in her eyes, and Hermione knew better than to press for the witch to continue her story.

“I told Ros I was a veela after our third date, and all she said was that she knew already.” Maribel laughed, shaking her head softly. “That woman caused me so many sleepless nights, worrying about how to tell her. How does one explain that they are meant to be together after all? And then for all my planning to be wiped away by her two little words.”

Hermione knew the words meant no malice, covered in a blanket of warmth that she couldn’t explain.

“We got married after the war had ended. The rest is history, really.” Maribel finished her tale with a sigh.

“Thank you” Hermione said, “for telling me.”

Maribel just wrapped the witch in an embrace, only pulling apart when the telltale stomps upstairs indicated that the others would be down soon.

After breakfast, Hermione found herself in the library, her summer homework surrounding her. She had decided to do it at the start of the holidays, wanting to get it out of the way quickly.

Katie had tried to get her to come outside with the others, however, the brunette had put her foot down. It had helped, of course, when Amy came to her rescue, saying if Katie had just oppositions to Hermione hiding away alone, perhaps they  _ all _ should do their homework.

Needless to say, the first year had been left alone very quickly after that. She didn’t mind, much preferring to work in peace without any distractions. It wasn’t long before she had already completed her Potions assignment. Hermione paused to rub her aching fingers, before diving into her Defense homework. She would proof-read her essays later that night.

She was finishing her last paragraph for Herbology when Ros walked in. The older witch coughed lightly when she saw Hermione finish the essay, eyebrows raised as she saw the 3 completed scrolls.

Hermione jumped a little at the other witch, but quickly smiled at her. Ros quickly held up two plates, offering one to her. They sat in a comfortable silence as they ate, Hermione obviously forgetting about the time. 

“Thank you Ros” Hermione blushed, after they had both finished. “I got a bit lost in my homework. I didn’t realise the time.”

Ros sighed, waving off the thanks. “Well, I could hardly let you starve now could I?” she teased.

Hermione paused, there was an odd tone in Ros’s voice. A sense of seriousness. Before Hermione could ask about it, the older witch held up a hand. 

“I need you to come with me, there’s something I need to tell you. You’re not in trouble, Hermione” Ros quickly added the last part, seeing the distress pass over her face. “Please?”

Hermione nodded, her face paling. Ros waved her wand at the work scattered across the floor, watching as books closed, and were left in little organised piles.

The older witch nodded, trusting Hermione to follow her out of the library, towards her study. The two sat down on the sofa in the room. As soon as they sat down, Maribel came in, quickly sitting down next to the young witch.

“Hermione,” Ros started, trying to keep her voice calm. “You need to know something. And there’s no easy way to say this, so I need you to listen to me okay?”

Hermione’s brain was working overtime, trying to figure out why the witches needed to speak to her so urgently. Was it something she did, or said? Maybe she shouldn’t have asked about the pair this morning, Hermione thought. Before she could spiral further, she felt that same blanket of warmth as this morning. Glancing down to see Maribel’s hand in her own, Hermione looked up to Ros, nodding.

“I went to your parents house.” Ros said, her voice barely wavering. “They weren’t there. It has been up for sale since January.” Both the older witches' hearts broke at the silent tears running down Hermione’s face. “Their dentistry practise was being converted into offices too.”

Hermione was trying to be brave, she really was. However, she could feel the tears falling. The truth she had been trying to deny. It stabbed at her chest painfully. All she could focus on was Ros’s words, echoing loudly through her head. She was barely aware of Maribel pulling her closer, into her arms. It took all of Hermione’s efforts to listen to Ros’s next words.

“They hadn’t left any contact details, so I put in a discreet request with some friends in the Ministry. They tracked them. They’re in Australia, Hermione. They moved there after Christmas.”

Hermione didn’t stop the sobs from coming now, getting louder and louder. She curled into herself, not paying attention to the apologies from both witches. Hermione couldn’t feel that warm blanket anymore, but she could feel her magic. It was pulsing through her, in the air. Reacting to her tears. Angry. Sad. Angry. Flipping between the two like a switch. Her nightmare came back, the taunts ringing in her ears. Curses hitting her. Falling over an outstretched leg. Her parents, calling her a freak. The arguments they’d had over her even attending Hogwarts. The shouting now louder.

_ Spells _

_ Curses _

_ Hexes _

_ Filthy _

_ Mudblood _

The young witch couldn’t take it anymore, hands covering her ears tightly. She felt her magic surge outwards. As soon as it had surged out, it rushed back in. Like a wave in a storm. Hermione curled more on herself, winded from her magic rushing around dangerously.

Maribel caught the Gryffindor as she suddenly collapsed back. Covered in sweat, she could only shake, exhausted. None of them moved, the older two holding Hermione between them.

Ros wearily looked around her study, grateful she had placed charms to prevent any damage years ago. Her eyes flicked down to Hermione, tears slowing. Ros met Maribel’s eyes as they both looked up. There was an unspoken question, the only hint of communication between the two being a raised eyebrow.

Sighing, Maribel reached down to stroke Hermione’s face, wiping away the remaining tears. Every conversation the pair have had with their adopted children over the years flashed in her memories. Each one more heartbreaking than the last. 

The three of them stayed like that for close to an hour, Maribel and Ros just holding the young witch. Finally, Hermione seemed to have regained enough energy to sit up.

“Hermione, please, don’t push yourself,” Maribel requested, supporting her in sitting upright. Ros had grabbed her other arm, taking part of Hermione’s weight as well.

“What happens now?” Hermione asked. Her voice was shaking, barely a whisper. Her hands, clasped together, seemed the most interesting thing in the world right now.

“Whatever you want” Ros spoke with conviction, there was no hesitation in her voice. “It’s exactly like what I said yesterday. You have a home with us. If you don’t want to tell anyone at Hogwarts, that’s okay with us too. You’re a Ravenclaw now, Hermione. Regardless of what colours you wear at school.”


	6. Diagon Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this out! It's a bit of a longer chapter. As I said at the start - this will follow canon for the first 3 books, and then divert from Goblet of Fire. I'm also not going to be rewriting their 2nd and 3rd year, so this chapter and the next will time skip to the summer. Enjoy it!

Hermione felt as though the rest of her summer flew by. Suddenly, she found herself in the Leaky Cauldron, nervously waiting to go into Diagon Alley. 

As the witch waited, she couldn’t help but think over her past summer. Hermione had lost her parents -  _ no _ , she thought darkly,  _ they lost her _ \- but gained a whole new family. Rivaling in numbers to the Weasleys. She thought of her first time riding on a broom by herself, Maribel beside herself in worry. Katie had been in arms reach, with Amy and Martin flying below her just in case. Really, the veela needn’t worry at all.

Hermione thought of the late night Quidditch matches. After the first one, she had opted to sit back in the stands. Whilst getting more comfortable on a broom, she still had a huge fear for the game itself. The heated debates with Luke. They usually ended with Ros telling them to find the appropriate book in the library. Her makeshift Ravenclaw family had felt more of a family then any memory she had growing up. 

She’d always done weird things, her parents never truly understanding. Hogwarts was just the nail in the coffin for them.

Shaking her head, the Gryffindor turned back her memories to the summer, intent on remembering them as best she could. Of Maribel singing, holding her when the nights let dark dreams slip in. Of Ros, telling her that she was part of her family, and nothing would ever change that. Them both comforting her when Harry hadn’t replied to any of her letters, encouraging her to send more.

Hermione remembered just last week, all of them sitting around for dinner. Hannah had asked her what she wanted to do for Hogwarts. The witch frowned, sighing. She didn’t want the attention of the school knowing what had happened. Hermione felt embarrassed, like her new family would shun her for not wanting to tell. Instead, they all bundled on top of each other. Promises that they understood. They would still keep an eye out - even Martin, from his place in Slytherin. They were a family, and they stood together, regardless.

Which led to her current predicament. As Hermione had organised - stupidly, in her own opinion - to meet the Weasleys, two days before term. To buy school supplies. Ros had jumped at the chance to pretend to be a muggle, and quickly grabbed Maribel to practise transfiguring themselves into Hermione’s parents.

Well, not exactly alike. Maribel had refused to copy Hermione's memories. Insisting they “guess, as to make it a bit more fun”. So that meant that as Ros and Maribel quickly rushed to Gringotts to withdraw money, Hermione was left in the dark about what the pair even looked like.

“Honestly, why didn't they withdraw money yesterday when they took Evan and Katie?” Hermione muttered to herself. She was nervous, not knowing when the Weasleys were to arrive, and her own supposedly muggle parents somewhere in Diagon Alley.

Arms wrapped around the girl's middle surprising her. As soon as Hermione went to grab her wand, she felt that familiar blanket of warmth surrounding her. Maribel. The young witch turned round, words trapped in her throat.

“Honestly, Hermione, it’s rude to mutter you know?” Maribel replied, an all too cheerful British accent removing any trace of the French dialect. Hermione shook her head. Where she expected blonde, she found light brown bushy hair. Albeit tamer than her own. She was looking at an older version of herself. Her blue eyes had stayed, which Hermione was grateful for.

She turned her head as another figure approached, a tall man, with dark hair. Hermione’s own hazel eyes reflected back on her. Other than being a man, and having hazel eyes, Ros had kept herself relatively unchanged.

Hermione was silently grateful that neither looked exactly like her own parents. She jumped up, pulling both into a bone crushing hug. “Thank you so much, I’m sorry” Hermione mumbled into their arms.

Ros shook her head softly, “Honestly, don’t worry little one, it’s not the first time we’ve pretended to be muggles!” Hermione was startled at how deep Ros’s voice had become.

“She secretly loves it, pretending to know not the currency, or what everything does” Maribel whispered into the young girl's ear.

“Well, before my  _ dear wife _ tries to embarrass me any further - shall we go get your stuff?” Ros said loudly, offering an arm to both Maribel and Hermione. Giggling, they wandered out of the back of the pub, into Diagon Alley.

Ros took great delight in pretending to be amazed, pointing and laughing at anything magical happening. Maribel had rolled her eyes, holding onto Hermione’s arm as the older witch pulled herself away to excitedly ask a shopkeeper how  _ exactly _ he was keeping things hoovering in his shop.

They had bought Hermione new potion supplies, as her own were running low, and were wandering down towards Gringotts. Hermione had agreed to meet the Weasleys and Harry outside. To complete the muggle ruse, Maribel had thought to bring along muggle money to exchange.

Ros wanted to argue about not needing muggle money, but the moment she saw the notes, she was excited again - “It’s just like Christmas!”

Maribel and Ros went inside, leaving Hermione to wait outside for everyone. Suddenly, she spotted the tall figure of Hagrid, followed by none other than Harry himself.

“Harry! Harry! Over here!” Hermione shouted happily, excited to see him again. She ran down to pull Harry into a hug, barely giving him a chance to breathe before she started talking again.

“What happened to your glasses this time? Hagrid, hi! It’s lovely to see you both! Are you coming into Gringotts Harry?”

Hermione finally paused, so Harry quickly replied, “Yeah, as soon as I’ve found the Weasleys.”

“Yeh won’t have long ter wait” Hagrid said, pointing back down the Alley.

Hermione and Harry turned excitedly, quickly noticing the sprinting group of redheads. Mr Weasley caught up to them first, panting loudly, “Harry, we hoped you’d only gone one grate too far… Molly’s frantic, she’s coming now.”

Hermione tuned out the Weasley’s questioning Harry, instead opting to grab his glasses and cast a quick  _ Repario _ charm to fix them. Harry smiled and thanked her, before they all turned to find Mrs Weasley galloping towards them. In one hand, her handbag was swinging dangerously, and the other pulled Ginny along.

Once Mrs Weasley had tried to beat the soot off Harry, Hagrid quickly made an escape - parting the crowds as he went.

Harry walked up the Gringotts stairs with Hermione and Harry. “Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes? Malfoy and his father!”

“Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?” Mr Weasley asked sharply.

“No, he was selling.”

“So he’s worried! I’d love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…” Mr Weasley said, with grim satisfaction.

“You be careful, Arthur, that family’s trouble, don’t go biting off more than you can chew,” Mrs Weasley sharply replied.

Hermione didn’t pay attention to Mr Weasley’s reply. Instead she waved at Maribel and Ros, who were playing the part of being muggles rather well, pretending to be nervous at the goblins. They smiled and waved at her, meeting in the middle of the counter hall.

Mr Weasley was delighted, shaking both their hands. “But you’re  _ Muggles _ ! We must have a drink! What’s that you’ve got there? Oh, you’re changing Muggle money. Molly, look!”

Maribel had an amused expression on her face, slipping her arm around Hermione’s shoulders. Ros, on the other hand, was asking Mr Weasley loads of questions about magic, and what his experience of Hogwarts was, if he had a “magical stick, just like my Hermione’s one?”

“Meet you back here,” Ron said to Hermione, as a Gringotts goblin led Harry and the Weasleys through a side room.

Maribel had busied herself by braiding a small part of Hermione’s hair, as Ros waited for the Weasleys to all disappear. “Mr Weasley works in the Ministry right?” Ros finally asked Hermione.

“Yeah, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, I think Ron said,” Hermione replied, enjoying the feel of Maribel playing with her hair.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this much more than I thought,” Ros seemed deep in thought, and Hermione decided not to ask anything further.

Maribel hummed, releasing Hermione’s hair to admire her handiwork. “Here, we’ve got you some money out. If you need anything more, just ask. I’m sure Mr Weasley wasn’t joking about getting a drink.”

“I can’t repay you, either of you. For this, and everything you’ve done for me.” Hermione quietly said, looking at the golden coins in her hands.

“Nonsense,” Ros replied, taking one of Hermione’s hands, as Maribel took the other. “Remember what I said - you’re a Ravenclaw now. You’re part of our family. The only repayment we could ever ask is perhaps a gift at Christmas?”

Hermione sniffed, a small smile coming back to her face. The blanket of warmth the young witch had come to recognise as Maribel’s doing came back, enveloping her in a hug.

“Remember Hermione, you’re family,” Maribel repeated, placing a kiss to the top of her hair. “You’re one of our kids now, and that will never change. Ever.”

Ros wiped away the few tears that had escaped, placing another kiss on Hermione’s cheek. They stood up as the Weasley’s returned, Harry looking rather sheepish behind them.

Once they were outside, they had all separated. Percy had mentioned something about needing a new quill. Fred and George had gone off with Lee Jordan. Mrs Weasley and Ginny were going to a second-hand robe shop. Mr Weasley insisted on going off with Maribel and Ros, wanting to know more about Muggle life. Hermione found it all quite funny that Mr Weasley walked off with who he thought was a Muggle man and woman, not knowing that they were in fact two witches, both transfigured.

“We’ll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your school books,” Mrs Weasley said, going away with Ginny. She eyed the twins’ retreating backs, before shouting to them, “and not one step down Knockturn Alley!”

Hermione strolled along the street with Harry and Ron. Harry quickly treated them all to large ice creams as they wandered the alley. Ron had been eying a full set of some orange Quidditch robes, but Hermione rather quickly dragged them off to buy ink and parchment.

They ran into the twins and Lee Jordan in a joke shop, and Percy in a tiny junk shop, immersed in a book. Ron had taken the mickey out of him when they left Percy.

An hour later, the trio headed for Flourish and Blotts. There was a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. Hermione read the large banner stretched across the windows. 

Hermione squealed, seeing that they could actually meet Gilderoy Lockhart. “We can actually meet him! I mean, he’s written almost the whole booklist!”

The three squeezed past the group, quickly heading into the store. They sneaked up the line to meet back up with the rest of the Weasleys, and Ros and Maribel.

Ros pulled Hermione to stand in front of her, keeping her hands on her shoulders. Maribel’s blanket of warmth surrounding her once again. It always made Hermione feel safe. Before anyone could speak, Gilderoy Lockhart came into view, sitting at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face. 

A smaller wizard, face completely opposite to Lockhart’s more charming one, was dancing around the crowd, taking photographs with a large black camera and a blinding flash. He had knocked into Ron, and snarled at him. Ros stepped back with Hermione, clearly intent on staying out of his way.

Suddenly, Lockhart shouted, leaping to his feet. “It  _ can’t _ be Harry Potter!”

The crowd parted, letting Lockhart dive forward and pulled Harry to the front. Harry’s face blushed deeply as the small wizard took what seemed like hundreds of photos. The rest of the crowd burst into applause. Hermione felt Maribel tense beside her as Lockhart whispered something into Harry’s ear. The witch relaxed as Hermione grabbed her hand.

Lockhart threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders, clamping him tightly to his side. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said loudly, waving for quiet. “What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time!”

“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography - which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge -” the crowd applauded again, “- he had  _ no idea _ that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book,  _ Magical Me.  _ He and his school fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that, this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

The crowd cheered and clapped at his announcement. Harry staggered under the weight of the entire collection of Gilderoy Lockhart, just about managing to make his way to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing.

He spoke to the redhead, dumping the books into her new cauldron. Not a second later, Draco Malfoy stalked across to the pair, his usual sneer in place. Hermione pulled herself away from Ros, joining Ron in fighting their way over.

“Oh, it’s you,” Ron said, looking at Malfoy with disgust. “Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?”

“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” Malfoy retorted, glancing over at his family waiting in the queue still. “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for that lot.”

Ron went as red as Ginny was, and started towards Malfoy. Before he could take a step, however, Hermione and Harry grabbed the back of his jacked.

“Ron!” Mr Weasley exclaimed, weaving his way over with Fred and George. “What are you doing? It’s mad in here, let’s go outside.”

“Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley.” It was Mr Malfoy, standing with his hand on Draco’s shoulder, matching sneer in place.

“Lucius,” Mr Weasley replied, nodding coldly.

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids… I hope they’re paying you overtime?” He reached into Ginny’s cauldron, extracted a very old, and very battered copy of  _ A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration _ . “Obviously not. Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

Mr Weasley flushed darkly, “We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy.”

Hermione glanced over at Ros and Maribel, who were watching the exchange cautiously. She could see Ros’s hand in her pocket, gripping the wand Hermione knew rested there. Mr Malfoy followed the girl’s gaze. “Clearly. The company you keep, Weasley… And I thought your family could sink no lower -”

There was a thud as Ginny’s cauldron went flying, Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Mr Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on their heads. Either Fred or George had shouted encouragement. Mrs Weasley was shrieking, the crowd stumbling backwards, knocking over more shelves. An assistant was shouting louder than everyone else, trying to break the pair apart. Maribel had appeared behind Hermione, pulling her into her front. Out of the corner of her should see the tip of Maribel’s wand peeking out of her sleeve. Ros stood next to them, her hand still in her pocket.

In an instant, Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy were pulled apart by the sudden appearance of Hagrid. Mr Weasley had a cut lip, and Mr Malfoy had been hit in the eye by a rather large book. In his hands was still Ginny’s transfiguration book. Mr Malfoy thrust it at her, eyes glinting madly.

“Here, girl - take your book - it’s the best your father can give you -” Mr Malfoy pulled himself out of Hagrid’s grip and swept away from the shop with Draco in tow.

Hermione felt Maribel relax, loosening her hold, and letting her wand slip back up her sleeve.. Ros caught her chin, looking at Hermione clearly for a minute before she kissed her forehead and stood up. 

They hurriedly followed everyone outside, Hagrid parting the crowd in front. Mrs Weasley seemed beside herself with fury.”A  _ fine _ example to set to your children…  _ Brawling _ in public…  _ What _ Gilderoy Lockhart must’ve thought…”

“He was pleased, didn’t you hear him as we were leaving?” Fred interrupted. “He was asking that bloke from the  _ Daily Prophet _ if he’d be able to work the fight into his report - said it’s all publicity.”

Mrs Weasley just ignored him, instead focussing on sorting out the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron. Mr Weasley turned to ask how the buses work, as Maribel started leading Hermione into the Muggle street. Hermione didn’t hear what Ros had said, but soon they ducked into a deserted alley.

Hermione smiled when the pair removed the transfigurations covering them. Once they were back to looking like normal, they disappeared with a crack.

Once back at the house, Hermione rushed upstairs to pack her new purchases away in her trunk. She was just going over her list when Katie rushed in.

“Didn’t want to knock, Katie?” Hermione asked, not looking up from her list. 

“Maribel was talking about the run in with the Malfoys. Wanted to see if you’re okay?” Katie said, making herself comfortable on the bed.

“They didn’t say anything to me, although Mr Weasley did have a fight with Malfoy’s dad.” Hermione put down her list, satisfied that she had packed everything. Sighing, the two Gryffindors laid down next to each other, looking at the ceiling.

Katie hummed. After a few minutes, she spoke again. “Well tomorrow is movie night. Ros managed to get a new film the other week to watch.”

Hermione was surprised at how quickly the topic had changed, but decided it was best to let it slide. The pair stayed silent, just enjoying each other’s company for the time being. 

All too soon, they were all gathered in the living room. Ros was going to apparate to Kings Cross with Amy, Eddie, and Luke. Maribel was taking Hermione, Katie, and Evan. Lily and Martin had both learnt how to apparate in their last year, so agreed to take Hannah, Eve, and Mike between them.

It was all very well organised, but then again, Hermione figured they had become used to the routine. They all disappeared with a crack at 10:30am on the dot, appearing in the same alley that Hermione and Ros had  apparated from back at the start of summer. Ros had quickly disapparated again, and then returned with shrunken trunks in her hands.

The trunks were quickly spelled back to full size, and handed out. Ros and Maribel had given kisses and hugs to Martin, and Lily, as they were rushing down to Kings Cross first to meet with friends. The group made their way down the road, having given themselves plenty of time to work their way down.

Once they got in the station, their group dwindled more, with some of the others rushing off having spotted friends, or housemates. None of them escaped the affections given by Ros and Maribel. By the time they had actually reached the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, there was only Katie, Hermione, and Evan left.

Ros and Maribel embraced Evan first, then watched him run into the seemingly solid wall, and vanish. 

Maribel quickly pulled Hermione into a hug after he had gone through, the blanket of warmth was back. “Owl us whenever. With whatever you need, we’ll answer okay? And remember, you’ve always got a family. Any issues tell someone.” She finished with kissing her forehead. Ros then pulled Hermione into her own arms, as Maribel grabbed Katie.

“You’re family, Hermione,” Ros repeated. “We look out for our own. We’ll be here at the end of the year waiting for you, I promise.”

Hermione hurriedly wiped at her eyes, determined not to cry again. Katie held Hermione’s hand as they went through the barrier, waving goodbye to Ros and Maribel. When Hermione couldn’t spot Harry and Ron, Katie dragged her towards Lee and Angelina, and got onto the train.

Hermione was worried when she couldn’t find Harry or Ron on the train. However, Katie had pulled her into the carriage with Lee, Angelina, and the twins, telling her not to worry. However, Hermione couldn’t shake the feeling that this year was going to go wrong.


	7. A Family Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've time skipped to the end of book two - as I've said, we're following canon for now. I've got a plan for another chapter after this, and then we'll be onto book four! Enjoy!

Hermione waved goodbye to the Weasleys, watching the redheads disappear in the crowded platform. Harry followed Hermione through the barrier, and into Kings Cross. Since being revived from being petrified, the young witch was still uneasy on her feet, so was leaning heavily on her trolley.

“Please try to write this year, Harry!” Hermione asked, pulling the wizard into a tight hug. She had spotted Harry’s relatives over his shoulder, who were glaring at the solid wall they had just come through.

“Of course, enjoy your summer, ‘Mione,” Harry pulled out of her embrace, and walked over to the Dursleys.

As soon as Harry had left, Katie appeared. The Chaser guided the two over to a bench, and they both sat down.

“How’re you feeling?” Katie asked, looking at how exhausted the young girl seemed.

“Still tired, it’s taken a lot out of me, you know?” Hermione closed her eyes, trying to save some of her energy at least. The other witch nodded, letting Hermione rest on her shoulder. Martin appeared in front of them a few minutes later, looking rather concerned at Hermione.

“You alright there ‘Mione?” Martin asked, as he set about shrinking the two girls trunks. Hermione just nodded sleepily - apparently the train home had drained her more than she previously thought.

“Right, I’ll be taking you both back to the house. Ros is letting Lily and I stay for another week until we move.” Martin half lifted Hermione, as Katie put their trunks in her pockets. The three of them quickly found an empty room, and once Katie had hold of Martin’s arm, they disappeared with a crack.

Once they landed outside the Ravenclaw gates, Hermione collapsed, only being held up by Martin. Panicked, they quickly ran down the drive, shouting for Maribel.

Maribel ran outside, wondering what the shouting was about. Her face paled as she saw Hermione in the Slytherin’s arms. “Quick, Martin, put her in the front room,  _ merde _ . Katie, get everyone out, now!”

Martin placed the young witch on the sofa carefully, brushing her hair out of her face. He looked up when Maribel came in, her wand in hand already. The blonde witch was waving her wand over the top of Hermione’s sleeping form, muttering spells under her breath.

There was a tense few minutes, as neither really knew what had happened. Finally, Maribel sighed and put her wand down.

“She’s exhausted. Which, by itself, isn’t a problem,” Maribel said softly, she was stroking the girl’s hair. “However, her magical core is drained as well. An after-effect of being petrified, I imagine. Hermione will need it replenishing, which is as simple as not using magic for a bit. I’m going to guess that by apparating with you, it drained her last reserve.”

Martin nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the young witch sleeping. They’d all gone and visited her whilst she was petrified. They read her stories, or parts of their books. Lily had revised next to her for the NEWTs.

“I’ll tell the others they can come in now, and put the kettle on for us all.” Maribel walked away, wiping her tears away.

Slowly, the others came into the living room, all watching the Gryffindor carefully. Katie immediately made her way over to the sofa, lifting Hermione’s legs to rest on her own.

“Martin, someone needs to tell Lily,” Hannah’s soft voice broke their silence.

“Of course, I’ll send a message now.” Martin stood up, quickly leaving the room behind.

The students sat around the living room, none of them wanting to leave the young witch alone. Katie mused that it was quite similar to the vigil they kept at Hogwarts, until Madam Pomfrey kicked them out. 

At one point, Evan stood up to turn the TV on, just to have something on in their silence. Lily practically ran into the room soon after Martin had sent her a message. Maribel quietly told her what had happened.

The french witch hadn’t told Ros yet. She knew it would cause an argument, but her wife always waited at Kings Cross on the last day. Maribel also hated the fact that her children were sitting silently around Hermione. There was pain in that room, that she wished she could take away from them all.

Ros frowned when she approached her house. With everyone back from Hogwarts, there’s normally a great deal of noise, as the students run around. However, this time there was silence. She ran a hand through her hair nervously. 

Ros knew, of course, about the attacks on Muggle Born students. Lucius Malfoy, in every Governors meeting, was very quick to point blame on Hagrid. Much to her surprise, the rest of the Governors agreed with him, quickly suspending Hagrid and Professor Dumbledore himself. Ros suspected foul play, even more so when Malfoy was fired at the end of the year. A Basilisk, hidden in the plumbing. And that absolute  _ idiot _ Gilderoy Lockhart. 

“Ros,” Maribel called, once the Ravenclaw heir came into the foyer. “Nobody left behind this year?”

“No, love, nobody. I think this is the first year in a while,” Ros sighed, studying the concerned look in her wife’s eyes. “Where is everyone? Why is it so quiet?”

Maribel hunched over, tears escaping. Ros quickly swept her into an embrace, kissing the top of her head. “What’s happened Mari?”

“It’s Hermione. It’s silly really. She collapsed when Martin apparated with her and Katie. She’s exhausted, but being petrified has drained her magical core completely. Hermione’s sleeping on the sofa, all the children are in there with her, watching.”

Ros closed her eyes, resting her head on Maribel’s hair. “It’s alright, Mari, she’s safe now, Hermione’s home.”

They withdrew from each other, Ros letting Maribel lead her to the living room. Immediately, 10 heads looked up, concern etched on every face. Ros walked round the room, settling herself to place a hand on Hermione’s head. Her eyes closed, and muttered a spell under her breath.

“She’ll wake up any minute, I think the magic in the air is helping build back up her energy faster than usual,” Ros removed her hand, looking around the room. “Perhaps it would be better if we looked less like we were at a funeral?”

Ros’s words had the desired effect, causing smiles, however small to appear. Not long after did Hermione start to stir, opening her eyes slowly. “What happened?” Hermione mumbled.

“Your magical core was completely drained, after being petrified. It’ll take a while to build back up. You need to rest, Hermione.” Ros replied softly, waiting for Hermione to nod.

Once Hermione had gathered herself into a sitting position - mostly held up by Katie - Ros clapped her hands. “I think I’ll go to the Muggle takeaway tonight - I’ll get Chinese for us.”

Hermione still felt exhausted, but nowhere near as bad as what she had been. She had blushed when she noticed all the eyes on her, but the others had started to do their own things. The witch noticed that nobody, beside Ros and Maribel, had left the room.

“We all visited you, when you were in the Hospital Wing,” Katie told Hermione. “We were so worried. Madam Pomfrey had to kick us out, and ban us from all visiting at the same time.”

“Nobody wanted to tell Ros or Maribel either,” Amy added, looking up from her book. “It was only when Ros came to Hogwarts for a meeting did she catch me in the hallway. Ros took me into an abandoned classroom and asked me why you weren’t replying to her letters.”

Eddie spoke up now, packing away a chessboard. “She was so angry. But scared. I think her and Maribel spent some time sitting with you as well, whilst everyone was in classes.”

Hermione nodded, enjoying the feel of Lily plaiting her hair. “I’m sorry. I had just worked out what it was - the Basilisk. I went to the library, just to double check. I ripped a page out of the book. I was so scared, it was going to attack again. I ran into another student. I don’t remember her name. Asked if she had a mirror, and we were using it to see around corners. I needed to tell Dumbledore. I don’t remember anything else before I woke up.”

“It was Penolope Clearwater,” Luke chimed in. “The student you were with.”

“And you don’t need to apologise, Hermione.” Martin said, making sure to look Hermione in the eyes. “I doubt Potter and Weasley would’ve worked it out otherwise. Merlin, I don’t think  _ anybody _ had realised.”

The students sat in silence after that, until Hannah spoke again. “Just a heads up, as well. Ros and Maribel know about the Polyjuice Potion.”

Hermione sighed, ducking her head. She was still so embarrassed about that. “Not my proudest moment. I should’ve realised that it was cat hair.”

Martin scoffed, glaring at Hermione. “Do you know I was in the common room when you all took that potion. Potter and Weasley  _ looked _ exactly like Crabbe and Goyle. Obviously they weren’t very well prepared for the acting side of things. But the potion lasted an hour. Polyjuice Potion isn’t a second year potion. We don’t get taught it until sixth year. A simple mistake of cat hair is nothing compared to  _ successfully _ brewing a potion 4 years above what any other student knows. It was incredible.”

“Brightest witch of her age, all wrapped in Gryffindor colours!” Katie cheered, squeezing the young witch tightly.

“You know, I’m still not sure if I agree with that,” came Ros’s voice, teasing and light. She grinned, her and Maribel holding up takeaway bags. “But I suppose I can deal with you being a Gryffindor at Hogwarts, if it means you’re a Ravenclaw here.”

Maribel swatted her wife on the shoulder, moving to the coffee table to start unloading bags. Lily, having finished a rather impressive braid in Hermione’s hair, waved her wand to summon plates into the room.

The makeshift family quickly settled into the food, watching a film on the TV. Hermione found herself falling asleep on Maribel’s lap, letting herself drift off with the familiar warmth surrounding her once again.

A week later, the house lost 2 children. Maribel and Ros proudly said goodbye to Martin and Lily, who were moving out. Martin had gotten a job in the Ministry, where Lily was working in Gringotts. They had decided to get an apartment closer to London. 

Everyone had settled back into a routine - but this time the daily Quidditch matches include a still very nervous Hermione. However, the witch was slowly becoming more confident as a Chaser. The first few matches, they hadn’t used a Bludger, letting Hermione get used to the speed of the game. 

In the evenings, Hermione found herself spending more time with Maribel, who was taking great delight in teaching the young witch French. She had learnt a bit in Primary school, but had let it slide for the past two years at Hogwarts.

Ros had taken Hermione to the side, a couple of days into the holidays. The pair had spoken at length about her being petrified. Ros even admitted how scared she was, sitting there looking at Hermione in the Hospital Wing. She then congratulated Hermione on her Polyjuice Potion, teaching her a spell which would identify the DNA of a person’s hair. 

One morning, they had all sat round for breakfast, when Ros made a surprise announcement. They had organised for the family to go visit Maribel’s family in France. Like with any magical occasion, it was very last minute. They would take a portkey to Maribel’s parents the next day.

As soon as they had made the announcement, Katie had all but dragged Hermione upstairs excitedly. “Oh but what should I wear?” Katie asked, going through her wardrobe.

“Anything, surely?” Hermione replied absentmindedly, focusing on writing a list of things that she herself wanted to pack.

“Anything? Anything, Hermione, seriously?” By this point, Katie had flung her clothes completely out, ignoring the offended looks of the players in her Quidditch posters. “We’re going for 2 weeks! And it’s Maribel’s  _ parents _ ! I’m going to take shorts. And jeans. And some robes.”

As Katie kept listing pretty much all her clothes, Hermione ignored her. “Right, I’m going to pack my  _ own _ stuff, Katie. Try not to take the kitchen sink with you?” With a playful wink, the second year witch quickly escaped the room.

Once back in the safety of her own room, Hermione pulled out her trunk, emptying the homework she had already packed ready for September. Shrugging, she grabbed the notebook and pens off her desk, placing them in. 

They all spent the rest of the day packing. Maribel seemed to be floating, she was so happy.

“She hasn’t been back to France for a few years,” Ros told Hermione after dinner. They were both sitting in the library. Ros had taken to teaching Hermione a spell each evening, after how quickly the witch had completed her homework.

“Oh, really?” Hermione replied, looking up from her book,  _ A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration _ .

“Yeah. There was just never time. As much as I told her, time and time again, to go without me, she was insistent we go together. With everything that’s been happening at Hogwarts lately, there hasn’t been a break for us to go.”

Hermione stayed silent, not sure what to say. Eventually, Ros waved her hand, “Ah, whatever. It always gets harder as you get older. What’s important is that we are going as a  _ family _ . Anyway, do you want to try conjuring again?”

The next morning was a bit more chaotic than their Kings Cross trip at the start of last year. Hermione and Amy had shrunk everyone’s luggage. Mike had passed them, buttoning up his shirt with one hand, and the other hand he held his wand, casting a featherlight charm on the trunks.

Katie had overslept, leaving Hannah to wake her up with a face full of cold water. Katie, of course, blamed the fact nothing would fit in her trunk, but ended up with another bucket of cold water over her.

Finally, Maribel stood by the front door with  _ most _ of them. Ros had gone off searching for Luke and Eddie, eventually dragging them to the door, when it turned out they were trying to find a pair of shoes. (Eve ended up just summoning the pair, whacking the boys over the heads with them).

“Okay, this is a Portkey,” Maribel started, as the family gathered around a book. “Everyone grab hold, and do  _ not _ let go until we say so. It’s not as bad as apparating, but it’s not comfortable. Link arms and hold on!”

Hermione was in between Maribel and Katie, grabbing the book nervously. Hermione gasped, as it felt like a hook had grabbed her from behind, and pulled her upwards. She tried leaning into Maribel, but it felt like she couldn’t move, colours merging into one, the wind ripping around them.

As soon as it had begun, the feeling stopped. Hermione’s legs crumpled as she hit the floor, feeling Katie collapse next to her. They looked at each other, then glanced around the circle. Only Ros and Maribel had managed to stay standing, everyone else was either fulling laying on the ground, or on their knees.

“ _ Maman _ !” Maribel shouted, waving off in the distance. Hermione looked up to see someone rushing towards them, long blonde hair flying in the wind.


	8. French Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a massive thank you for all the reviews! I never expected to get this many! I hope you all enjoy this one as well! I'm sorry this is a bit of a long chapter, it got away from me a little!

“ _ M _ _ a petite, ça fait trop longtemps _ !” The woman had quickly pulled Maribel into an embrace, Ros turning to help everyone else back on their feet. Hermione studied the older woman - she was nearly identical to Maribel, however, her hair was lighter.

“ _ Maman _ , this is my family,” Maribel and the woman turned to face the students, pointing to each as they were introduced.

“ _ Magnifique _ !” The woman replied, smiling brightly. “I am Brigitte Beaufort, but call me Brigette.” Maribel’s mother spoke with quite a strong French accent, keeping a hand on Maribel’s shoulder.

“Of course, if you call her  _ Grandmère _ ,” Ros spoke up, her tone playful. “She will love you forever, you will never leave her side, and you’ll be her favourite.”

“Ah, Ros, per’aps I zould inzist all your children call me grandmozzer.” Brigitte eyed Ros, before pulling the witch in for a hug. “Now come, let me zow you your rooms!”

The family moved toward, but as soon as Hermione looked up, she gasped and stopped. The rest of the students followed suit, all looking at the Chateau in front of them. It looked to be 5 stories tall, with two turrets on either side. There was a moat surrounding it, and forests beyond that further. It looked more like a fairytale castle, than a family home.

The three adults had turned to look at the students still transfixed on the house. Brigitte smiled widely at them, when they finally managed to start moving again, all looking rather bashful at being seen staring.

Once they were inside, Brigitte quickly showed them the floor they would be staying on, before leaving them to get settled. Hermione found herself sharing a room with Katie, which was large enough to have two double beds in. 

“Merlin, Maribel’s mother is beautiful, isn’t she?” Katie said, putting away her last top.

Hermione, who had finished unpacking long before Katie, nodded. “Yeah, I can see where Maribel gets it from now?”

Both girls laughed at this, joining the others waiting in the hallway. Maribel had already gone downstairs, leaving Ros to get everyone down and settled.

“Right, I think they’re waiting in the living room,” Ros looked at everyone in turn, before sighing. “Honestly, if you want to call Maribel’s parents grandma and granddad, I think they would die with happiness. You’d also get anything you wanted!” Ros finished with a laugh.

Hermione looked serious for a minute, before she nodded, quietly speaking. “I think I will, Ros. I’ve never really had grandparents before.”

The older witch looked up, happiness breaking across her features. Quickly, everyone else agreed. Suddenly, Ros dragged them all into a hug, tears streaming on all their faces.

“Where was my invite to this party guys?” Came Maribel’s teasing voice. They looked up to find Maribel with arms crossed, smiling down on the pile.

“Sorry, love, got all a bit emotional here,” Ros replied, somewhere at the bottom of the tangle. “Ow! Who’s elbow is in my ribs!?”

“Sorry Ros!” Evan replied, as they all detached themselves.

“Let’s go,  _ mon père _ will be home late, so we’ll meet him tomorrow.” Maribel called, leading the way downstairs .

“I ‘ope you ‘ave all zettled in,  _ oui _ ?” Brigitte asked, smiling at the group. “Eet es a zmall dinner tonight, alzough Apolline and ‘er family will be coming later en ze week.”

They settled into the living room, Hermione finding herself tucked into Amy’s side, listening to her and Katie talk Quidditch. Ros had received a letter from Hogwarts, calling for an emergency meeting, so was forced to leave rather quickly for it.

“Honestly, she’s meant to be on holiday, this is ridiculous!” Maribel said, glaring at the doorway. “That school can’t deal with anything!”

“Zat es why Beauxbatons es ze best,  _ non _ ?” Brigitte replied, calmly drinking her tea.

The students all stopped what they were doing, turning to playfully glare at the older witch. Suddenly, the room was filled with each other talking over the other, pointing out the good parts of Hogwarts.

“We  _ do _ have better test scores!”

“A huge library!”

“Full sized Quidditch pitch!”

Hermione piped up, biting her lip and looking at Brigitte carefully, “Maybe  _ grandma _ is right? Although my poor school years may be more because of Harry always finding trouble?”

The room fell into silence, Amy pulling the young witch into her side more. Hermione was quickly ripped out of Amy’s grasp, instead finding herself with Brigitte hugging her tightly, talking in French faster than she could translate.

Hermione was vaguely aware of both Brigitte and Maribel crying, the former still clutching the Gryffindor tightly.

“Of course Hermione would play the grandmother card first!” Eve said, although her voice was very clearly amused, rather than annoyed.

“To be fair, she has a point. Who else figured out there was a basilisk in the pipes, or Snape’s riddle on potions correctly?” Katie replied, laughing at the red faced Hermione still buried in Brigitte’s arms.

The family quickly settled back down, Hermione now sitting by Brigitte, still blushing furiously. The students were all now more relaxed with calling the older witch grandma. That had led to more tears, Brigitte and Maribel hugging them all.

Ros came back later in the evening, looking haggard. She let Maribel pull her onto the sofa, relaxing into her wife. “So what did I miss?” She asked, focussing on Hermione still stuck to Brigitte.

“Hermione played the grandmother card,” Amy replied distractedly, trying to work a way to beat Hannah at chess. Brigitte just smiled, placing a kiss to Hermione’s hair, who had her head buried back in her transfiguration book.

“Ah, I see,” Ros replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ll assume she's the favourite now?”

“Yeah, who doesn’t love our ‘Mione?” Katie teased, still finding it all really funny.

“What did they call you away for?” Maribel asked, rubbing her fingers along Ros’s back.

Ros frowned, letting her eyes flutter shut. The family all stopped what they were doing, looking at Ros. “Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban.” 

“ _ Merde _ ,” Brigitte and Maribel both breathed.

“Nobody knows how,” Ros continued. “Ministry’s furious, of course. They’re putting added protection everywhere, his face plastered across the  _ Daily Prophet _ . The Minister - Fudge - he was at the meeting, wanting students not to return this year. Course, Dumbledore put his foot down. Said Black would never risk setting foot in Hogwarts again.”

“I bet Fudge wasn’t happy?” Eddie asked, sitting on the edge of the sofa.

“No, he wasn’t. Insistent that Hogwarts have more protection added.”

“What does that mean?” Hermione said softly, looking at Ros carefully.

“It means we’re going to spend an hour a day learning the  _ Patronus  _ charm. Until you all can perform one perfectly.” Ros’s voice left no room for arguments. “I will  _ not _ let another one of you get hurt this year.”

“Maybe ‘Mione was right,” Evan breathed. “Maybe Beauxbatons  _ is  _ better.”

There was quickly a pillow thrown at his head, Ros looking rather confused.

By the time dinner came round, the house had settled again, Brigitte being rather insistent to make sure everyone enjoyed their holiday. Full of food, Hermione settled into bed, Katie watching her from her own bed.

“Night ‘Mione!” Katie called, flicking the lights off.

“Night Katie.”

The next morning, they gathered in the garden, having quickly met Maribel’s dad, Marshall, over breakfast, before he rushed off to work. Ros stood in front of them all, seeming rather serious. Maribel and Brigitte were sitting to the side, watching them with rapt interest.

“Okay, so the  _ Patronus  _ is like a positive force, projecting out of your wands,” Ros started speaking evenly. “It’s an advanced charm, so it will take practise and time. Unfortunately, we don’t have anything to practise against -”

“Good!” Maribel cut in, still obviously annoyed by whatever protections Fudge wanted to put at Hogwarts. Ros had refused to tell them still.

Throwing a glare at the interruption, Ros continued. “If you can conjure a powerful one here, you should be alright if you ever need to cast one for real. Each patronus is unique to the caster, and will only work if you focus on a single, happy moment. It needs to be a powerful, happy memory. Something so strong, that the mere thought of it makes you happy.”

“Take a minute now to find this memory, bring it forward.” Ros’s voice faded away, giving them time to find a memory.

Hermione focussed hard, racking her brains for happy memories. It certainly wouldn’t be anything before Hogwarts, every memory had a darker twinge to it after her first year. Closing her eyes, she thought about her new home. Her new family. Ros teaching her spells, Maribel braiding her hair, singing. 

Ros waited until everyone had opened their eyes again, and then nodded. “The incantation is quite simple, just focus on that memory, point your wand, and say  _ Expecto Partronum _ !” Suddenly, a raven shot out of her wand. It was glowing white, flying between everyone. Not a minute later, the raven flew back to Ros, before slowly fading from view.

“Your turn now!” Ros told them, and the garden was covered in noise of the 9 of them saying the spell. After her third try, Hermione managed to get a wispy silver to come out of her wand, to Ros’s excitement. 

By the end of the hour, all of them had managed to get a wispy silver cloud to cover them, although it was very weak.

“I zall get us zome  _ chocolat _ ,” Brigitte announced, moving away towards the kitchen. By the time she had come back, most of the students were lying on the floor, exhausted, whilst Amy and Katie had been smart enough to collapse on a bench.

They spent the rest of the day exploring the grounds, building forts in the forest. By the time they had all tramped back into the house, Maribel had met them with a hose of water from her wand, cleaning all the mud off.

The next few days were spent in more or less the same way. Firstly, lessons with Ros - everyone was getting a bit better at casting, and it wasn’t as draining as their first day. Then, they went to explore the grounds, or the Chateau itself. Hermione had taken to sitting with Maribel and Brigitte in the evenings, listening to stories from when Maribel was younger. Of course, this cemented the fact that Hermione had become Brigitte’s favourite grandchild (which Ros was grateful for, as it got her out of the woman’s clutches, and had promised Hermione any book she wanted).

It was on the 4th day of being at the Beaufort Chateau did Apolline and her family arrive. Hermione had told the others that Maribel and Apolline were friends in Beauxbatons - Apolline a few years above Maribel. She didn’t mention any of the pranks the two had pulled on their professors, figuring someone would find some way to put them in contact with the Weasley twins.

Whilst there was excitement at meeting the other family, Katie and Hermione had managed to get Brigitte to agree to the pair exploring the local magical town. It had involved a lot of puppy dog eyes, pouting, and “ _ s'il vous plaît grand-mère, nous serons bons promis _ !”

Maribel wasn’t overly pleased, especially with the fact that Sirius Black was suspected to be heading towards France, to escape the British Ministry. In the end, Hannah and Mike had both agreed to go with the pair, as they were 17, and could  _ technically _ use magic outside Hogwarts. 

“Okay so you all know where you’re going, right?” Ros asked the group, for what felt like the tenth time that morning.

“Yes, and we’ve all got our wands too,” Hannah replied, patting her pocket for added effect.

“We’ll be back after lunch - no later than 4pm,” Mike added, checking his wrist for his watch.

“Ros, let my grandbabies go,” Brigitte shouted from the living room. She had spent the morning either laughing at Ros for her panicking, or making sure the four had more than enough money for their trip.

“Fine!” Ros threw her hands up, clearly knowing she was being overprotective at this point.

“They’ll be okay,  _ mon amour _ , they’re all big kids now,” Maribel said, coming to pull Ros away from the door.

Shouting their goodbyes, the four made their way out of the Beaufort grounds, starting down the road to the nearby town.

“I thought Ros was never going to let us go,” Hermione said amusedly.

“Yeah, and then all our sucking up to grandma would be in vain!” Katie added, swinging the other Gryffindor’s hands around.

The group laughed at that, all of them having witnessed the two girl’s attempts at sweet talking Maribel’s mother.

“I think it was the French that really sealed the deal, to be fair,” Mike mused.

“Or Hermione’s insistence to always be close to grandma, or ask for bedtime stories!” Hannah teased, pulling Hermione away from Katie to link arms, pinching at her cheeks.

“Yeah well it worked, didn’t it?” Hermione retorted, blushing fiercely. 

“Our little Gryffindor, as smart as a Raven, and as sly as any Slytherin!” Mike laughed loudly, taking Katie’s arm in his own. “And you’re as kind as a Hufflepuff, until you draw your wand!”

The group spent the day happily in the town. Hermione, who had never seen a magical town before, was fascinated. She had remembered to buy Harry a birthday present - a Broomstick Servicing kit. They’d stopped for lunch, making their way to the town square. Before getting lost in the market that had been set up for the day, they found a story-teller on the side. Eating their food, the four listened to the story-teller spin the history of France. About half-way through, Hermione pulled out a notebook and pen to take notes on his stories about the witch burning, in order to re-write her History of Magic homework.

As they left, Katie dragged them into a small store on the outskirts of the town. They left, 10 minutes later, with 3 wrapped gifts.

“To make sure we stay on their good side!” Katie explained, putting the boxes carefully in one of the bags.

“What time do you call this?!” Ros shouted, as soon as the four piled through the doors. They would find her intimidating, if she didn’t have a smile threatening to break loose, and no paint on her face.

“Uh, 4:05?” Mike replied, trying desperately not to laugh at the witch. The same couldn’t be said for the three girls, however, who all had doubled over laughing once Ros rounded the corner.

Luckily, Brigitte came to their rescues, pulling them all in for hugs. “Oh, my lovely grandbabies, ‘ow was eet? Did you enjoy eet? Did you go to ze  _ marchés _ ?”

“Brigitte! I’m trying to be serious here!” Ros laughed, keeping her hands on her hips.

“Oh poo, zey’re my grandbabies,  _ non _ ?” Brigitte waved her hand at Ros. “Now zen, what did you get?”

On the way back, they had agreed that Hermione would give Brigitte her present, playing up to the ‘favourite grandchild’. The other three would hand Ros and Maribel theirs.

“We got you this, grandma!” Hermione called, pulling one of the gifts out, handing it over.

Brigitte opened it up, excitedly pulling out the necklace. It was simple, with sapphires embedded in. “Oh,  _ c’est parfait _ ‘Ermione,  _ merci _ , zank you all!” Brigitte was in tears, pulling all four into a hug. 

After a minute or so, the group headed into the living room, holding two more gifts, but leaving the rest of their bags by the stairs. Inside the living room, there was a beautiful blonde woman, sitting next to Maribel. On the floor, there was a young girl, another blonde, who couldn’t be any older than 6, playing with blocks.

“Hey guys, welcome back!” Maribel said, smiling at the group. “I trust everything went fine?” The unspoken question lingered in the air -  _ were you safe _ .

“It was amazing! There was a story-teller in the square!” Hannah answered, leading the way for them to sit on the sofa. Hermione was quickly, however, grabbed to sit next to Brigitte.

“Hermione took notes so she could re-do her History of Magic homework,” Katie teased, winking at the younger witch. Hermione, in return, could only glare as Brigitte instructed her to help with the necklace.

“Ah, where are my manners,” Maribel slapped a hand to her forehead. “Kids, this is Apolline Delacour, and her youngest daughter Gabrielle. Apolline, this is Hermione, Katie, Hannah, and Mike.”

Apolline smiled warmly at them. “Eet es lovely to meet you. Maribel talks a lot about you all. Unfortunately, my ‘usband, Louis, and my oldest, Fleur, ‘ad to go ‘ome zuddenly, but zey ‘ope to meet you zoon.”

Ros returned that minute, floating mugs of tea in front of her carefully. “I  _ think _ I’ve got it right this time.”

“Let us hope then  _ mon amour _ ,” Maribel teased.

“Oh! That reminds us - Ros, Maribel, we got you both presents as well!” Katie shot forward eagerly. “As a thank you for letting us out by ourselves.”

There were more tears as the two opened their own gifts. Maribel had a matching necklace to Brigitte, and Ros had a small notebook.

“The two necklaces are enchanted,” Mike explained. “It will warm up if the other is touched.”

Hannah explained Ros’s present, as the witch looked at the runes moving lazily across the surface. “It’s designed that it will never run out of pages. But also, never get any heavier or bigger!”

Gabrielle had stopped playing when they had passed over their gifts. The young blonde looked around excitedly. Eventually, Gabrielle had decided to move over towards Hermione, who had managed to unwrap herself from Brigitte. Hermione jumped as the girl stood in front of her, looking up at the Gryffindor curiously.

“ _ Salut, je suis Gabby, _ ” the young girl looked at Hermione expectantly.

Hermione paused, her brain taking a second to catch up. “Uh,  _ bonjour, je m’appelle  _ Hermione.”

Gabrielle looked confused, “ _ ‘Ermine _ ?”

“Her-my-own-ne,” Hermione corrected, still not sure what to make of the young girl.

“Mi!” Gabrielle settled on, ignoring Hermione’s correction. Then, much to the amusement of everyone else, Gabrielle jumped onto her lap, kissing both of her cheeks. 

“ _ Tu fais de la magie _ !” Gabrielle exclaimed, looking at Hermione expectantly.

“Uh, I guess so?” Hermione replied, still confused why she had chosen her to sit on. Taking a breath, Hermione made the girl’s blocks float over to them, moving in the air. Gabrielle laughed, making to grab at the blocks.

“ _ Un autre un autre _ !” Gabby cheered, clapping excitedly.

“I am afraid Gabby will not leave you alone now,” Apolline said, looking at Hermione apologetically.

“It’s okay, really, I don’t mind,” Hermione responded, making sparks appear over her head, floating down to join the blocks.

“ _ Tata _ ,  _ maman _ !  _ Regard _ !” Gabby called out pointing at the doves Mike had sent over to join the floating chaos.

The rest of Hermione’s summer passed quickly. She had spent the rest of her holiday aboard with Gabrielle attached to her hip. Apolline had apologised, explaining that the girl wanted to stay with Hermione, but that her other daughter and husband were busy, so couldn’t meet up with them again. Gabrielle caused a massive tantrum when the family had to leave at the end of the two weeks, but Hermione had promised to stay in touch with the young blonde, and owl her every week.

Hermione had met up with Harry and Ron at Diagon Alley in the last week, all enjoying their last bit of freedom before heading back to Hogwarts. She couldn’t help comparing her very well organised trip to Kings Cross with her family, and the trip there with the Weasleys' chaos - even with the Ministry cars waiting to pick them up.

As the trio got settled on the train back to Hogwarts, Hermione smiled at the thought that her Ravenclaw family was definitely the best family she could ever hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the last few paragraphs were a bit rushed, but I know we're all looking forward to meeting our favourite veela, and I didn't want to drag it out any more than needed!


	9. Quidditch World Cup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting closer to finally seeing our favourite French veela! Enjoy this chapter!

Hermione sighed as she finished unpacking her trunk. She couldn’t just have a  _ normal _ year at Hogwarts, no instead, she took every class the school offered, and helped a convicted criminal escape Dementers on a Hippogriff. Well, Sirius is innocent, but still.

Sitting on her bed, Hermione looked around her room, noticing the changes that Ros and Maribel had done over the past year. On the wall, over her desk, there were countless photos pinned up - some were of their holiday last year, Gabrielle stuck firmly in her side. Others were photos taken here, such as the first time Hermione flew on a broom, or all of them bundled together watching a film. Martin and Lily coming back to visit just before term started again. There were even a few of her time at Hogwarts - Katie and Angelina pulling a first year Hermione into a hug. Harry, Ron, and herself down by the Black Lake.

There was a pile of books next to her desk, which Ros had recommended Hermione to read over the summer. Maribel had also left a small pile of drawings to the side, which she’d proudly been working on over the years.

Hermione wandered downstairs, trying to find someone else in the house. Hannah had apparated her back to the house from Kings Cross, but had since disappeared. Crookshanks had disappeared himself as soon as she’d let him out of his cage, hissing angrily at her.

Her feet stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, smiling, as she saw Maribel singing and dancing again. Maribel was lost in her own world, and there was that soft golden glow surrounding the older witch again. Hermione studied the scene, drawing back her memory to the first time she saw the witch like this.

Before the Gryffindor could study further, Maribel grabbed Hermione’s hands, pulling her into a dance. 

“Sing along with me ‘Mione!” Maribel called, both witches smiling as they sang along - Hermione out of tune - to whatever was playing on the radio.

They stopped, giggling madly, when an advert came on, interrupting their impromptu concert.

Hermione bit her lip, finally deciding to ask the question that she's been wondering since she first saw it.

“Hey, Maribel?” She started quietly, carefully watching the witch. “What’s that glow that you get around you sometimes?”

Maribel froze, looking at Hermione surprised. Instantly, the younger witch thought she had said the wrong thing, so began backpedaling as fast as she could.

“I mean, I’m probably seeing things? Yeah that’s it, my eyes are playing tricks on me. There’s nothing there at all. Nothing at all. Just my brain playing tricks.”

“Hermione!” Maribel called, cupping the girl’s cheek. “When did you first see it?”

“Uhhh, the first time I saw you in the kitchen? Well, clearly at least. Since then I’ve always noticed something, but it varies on how clear it is?” Hermione replied, still tugging at her lip.

To her great surprise, Maribel just smiled widely, pulling them both onto a chair. “It’s not a trick, ‘Mione.” Two cups of tea made their way over to the pair.

Maribel took a sip in silence, Hermione eagerly looking at her. “Remember when I told you I was a veela?” She finally asked.

“Yeah, your mother is one as well, right?”

“Your Grandmother, yes,” Maribel teased, smiling at the blush that appeared on Hermione’s cheeks. “Well, veela’s have this thing called Thrall. It’s a bit like a force, surrounding a veela. It has many uses. It can be manipulated to affect others emotions, or react to the veela’s emotions, lashing out at anybody seen as a threat nearby. A full veela, like my mother, has complete control over the Thrall.”

Hermione nodded, really wishing that she could take notes. “So when I feel a blanket of warmth, that’s your Thrall?” At Maribel’s nod, she smiled. “I always thought so.”

“If you’re a part veela, you don’t have as much control, and puberty is awful with it. Veela’s are, by nature, very sexual, so puberty just means the Thrall runs riot. However, when it’s like that, it only affects those who are attracted to women - basically turning them into purple blubbering messes. I had to keep hexing boys, and a few girls, at Beauxbatons, to stop them staring at me.”

Both witches laughed at this, ignoring the now cold teas in front of them. “Luckily, Apolline was a few years above me, so she helped me get through the worst of it. Although she didn’t have full control over her’s either -”

“Wait! Apolline is a veela too?” Hermione interrupted.

“Yeah, Gabriella and Fleur are both quarter veelas, so their control is even less. Poor Fleur had Luke and Evan blushing whenever she spoke to them. They had to keep punching each other so they could answer her. Luckily, Fleur, Louis, and Apolline all found it quite funny.”

Hermione giggled at this, both boys had been too embarrassed to say why their arms were bruised so much. “So Gabby?”

“Is too young for her Thrall to have come in completely. But she will have the same issues when it does.”

“It seems like a curse,” Hermione breathed out, her brows creasing. “How do you tell who likes you for yourself, and who is trapped in the Thrall?”

Maribel smiled sadly, reaching forward to stroke the lines out of the young girl’s head. “Unfortunately, you don’t, really. People can get used to the Thrall, and ultimately ignore it for the most part, but in terms of romantic advances, you can never know. It’s why most veelas wait for their mate. A veela's mate is immune to the natural Thrall, although they can sense it when the Thrall is focussed. It’s a control only a full veela has.”

“But I thought you said veela’s are sexual?” Hermione blushed at her question, ducking her head.

“Yes, we are. And it’s natural for  _ anyone _ to experiment as a teenager. But for a true relationship, most wait.” Maribel grinned, then seemed to be thinking hard about something.

Their conversation was disrupted by the arrival of everyone else - including Ros to everyone’s surprise. It turns out everyone had been unpacking, and Maribel had put up silencing charms in each room.

As the family got settled over dinner, the students all happily sharing stories from the past year, Katie proudly cheering about Gryffindor finally winning the Quidditch Cup this year.

Suddenly, Hannah cut across Katie, looking at Hermione curiously. “So. ‘Mione. How  _ exactly _ did you manage to get to all your classes this year?”

Hermione blushed, hoping that the floor would open up beneath her. Ros leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“Hermione took  _ every _ class at Hogwarts this year,” Evan answered.

“Walked out of Divination halfway through though!” Eve piped up.

“That’s because Divination was a pointless subject!” Hermione finally retorted.

“So,” Hannah drawled. “How did you do it?”

“I’m not allowed to say,” Hermione started, before cutting herself off. “But I suppose, the year’s over, and it’s not like nobody else knows. I used a Time-Turner.”

“Wait,” Ros said, staring at Hermione dumbfounded. “You’re telling me, you got a  _ highly restricted _ Time-Turner, just to attend lessons at Hogwarts?”

Meekly, Hermione nodded. “I’ve dropped Muggle Studies and Divination next year. It was so exhausting keeping on top of everything. Who knew you could have detentions just for sleeping?”

“That’s why you kept falling asleep in the common room!” Katie exclaimed. 

“You got detention?! Is everybody ignoring this fact!” Eddie cut across.

“Yeah, McGonagall kept giving them after she caught me sleeping in a stairwell.”

“So you used this Time-Turner all year?” Maribel asked curiously.

Hermione just nodded, feeling quite tired all of a sudden. “McGonagall gave it to me at the start of the year, I found loads of hidden passageways so I could use it without people spotting me.”

“Merlin’s beard, ‘Mione.” Ros breathed, staring at her in shock. “I really think you should’ve been sorted into Ravenclaw!”

The next morning, Hermione woke bright and early, deciding to finish off her latest letter to Gabrielle, and post it before breakfast. The young girl had been really annoyed when Hermione forgot to send her a weekly letter, but quickly forgave her when she received her birthday present - a children’s book on learning English.

Hermione watched the owl fly away out of the kitchen window, turning to make herself a cup of tea. Before she could even heat the water, however, Hannah came bounding into the room.

“Hermione! I need your help! I’ve got a tryout tomorrow for the Falmouth Falcons Quidditch team tomorrow, and I need practise!” Hannah looked out of breath, clutching a letter tightly in her hands.

“What position?” Hermione asked, not really sure if she was the best person to ask.

“They do their tryouts for every role - all their players can do every position. Please, please help me?” Hannah was basically begging Hermione now.

They both trundled out to the Quidditch pitch, Hannah making the chest float behind them. Hermione recognised the brooms as brand new Firebolts - the same as Harrys. Whilst the young Gryffindor was getting comfortable with brooms, the Firebolt  _ scared _ her. She had seen the speed it had achieved with Harry.

“Don’t panic, Hermione - we’ll go slowly to start with. Merlin alone knows why Ros has to keep updating the brooms whenever a new one comes out!” Hannah laughed, although Hermione could see she wasn’t unhappy at Ros’s decision.

They both mounted their brooms, Hannah deciding to start with Hermione trying to score against her in goal. Hermione giggled as they kicked off, starting to really enjoy the feel of the wind rushing through her hair. It made her giddy, not that she’d ever tell Harry or Ron.

Before they got into their practise, however, Hermione and Hannah spent a few minutes chasing each other on the brooms. A game of tag, taking Hermione back to sitting on the playground in Primary, watching the other children chase each other.

Once comfortable, Hannah summoned the Quaffle up to them, throwing it to Hermione easily.

“Right, give me your best shot!” Hannah shouted, grinning.

Hermione did try - she really did - but Hannah blocked all her shots easily. Sweating a little, Hermione rounded back to the goals to try again. This time, the Gryffindor made to go for the left goal post, using the speed of the Firebolt to twist and  _ finally _ score through the right goal. Both girls cheered at the goal, meeting in the middle. 

“Should we try you in goal now?” Hannah asked, swapping positions.

The pair went on like that for over an hour, Hermione taking great delight in being a Beater. It reminded her of playing Rounders in her P.E lessons, just way higher in the air.

“Were you two planning on having some food today or no?” Ros shouted up to them, as they practised tackling each other for the Quaffle.

Both girls stopped what they were doing, Hermione just being able to keep a grip on the Quaffle. Suddenly, Hannah dived sharply, pulling up just inches from the ground. Hermione followed much more carefully, and her dismount was more of a falling off the broom, than the graceful one Hannah managed.

“Come on, let’s head back, Maribel and I have an announcement!” Ros said excitedly, waving her wand to make the brooms and Quidditch chest disappear. 

Once back at the house, Maribel pulled the two witches into the dining room, silently putting breakfast plates in front of them. Everyone was still in there, all with a similar face of confusion.

“Sorry we’re late! Lily decided to take her time in the shower.” Martin and Lily had appeared, quickly finding themselves in a pile of hugs.

“‘Mione! Heard about the Time-Turner! I think it’s brilliant!” Lily said, hugging Hermione tightly. “And Hannah, good luck on your tryouts tomorrow!”

“Ah yes, the hero who punched Draco Malfoy square in the jaw - absolutely amazing!” Martin chimed in, grinning madly. “Wanted to do that myself a few times, the prat.”

“Wait - you  _ punched _ someone?” Maribel said sharply, eyeing the Gryffindor.

“He had it coming,” Hermione shrugged.

Ros managed to, eventually, regain control of the room, an excited glint in her eyes. “Okay so this summer is the Quidditch World Cup, Bulgaria versus Ireland. I have managed to get us all tickets!”

Ros had to stop talking, letting them all cheer. Maribel and her shared a glance, Ros nodding in agreement. 

“There’s also something else,” Maribel called, all eyes now focussing on her. “At Hogwarts this year, something special. However, you  _ cannot _ tell anyone outside this room until Dumbledore announces it.”

There was a general murmur of agreement, it was like all of them were holding their breath. Martin and Lily looked excited, presumably they had been told at work.

“The Ministry is reinstating the Triwizard Tournament.” Ros said softly, looking around the room. “It is a competition between the three biggest magic schools in Europe. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Hogwarts will be hosting it this year.”

“The Triwizard is a great opportunity to represent Hogwarts as the one and only Champion of the school. However,” Maribel continued, the room still waiting with baited breath. “It’s incredibly dangerous. Only students aged 17 or over can enter.”

Immediately, several things happened. Hannah and Luke both swore, obviously annoyed that they would be missing the competition. Hermione’s face shone, finally happy for something that Harry couldn’t possibly get involved in, and therefore, finally have a normal year. Martin and Lily grins got impossibly bigger. Eve and Amy looked at each other, as they both turned 17 last year, so could enter. Everyone else was furious that they couldn’t compete.

Ros and Maribel let the chaos consume the room, looking uneasy. Finally, Ros spoke again, “Eve, Amy. I’m not going to tell you not to enter. But it  _ is _ incredibly dangerous, so please bear that in mind. Either way, Maribel and I will cheer either of you on if you get it.”

The two girls nodded. “We will think about it,” Amy replied seriously.

“Please do not tell anyone about this. It’s top secret.” Maribel reiterated.

They all agreed eagerly. Hannah stood up quickly, “I’ve got a tryout tomorrow for the Falmouth Falcons and I could really use the help practising, please?”

“Of course, we haven’t had a chance to play in a while, have we Martin?” Lily said, linking an arm through Hannah’s, and leading everyone out.

“I’ll pack us a picnic, we can stay out there for however long, you guys go ahead,” Maribel called, heading towards the kitchen.

Whilst everyone else filed outside, Hermione hesitated at the kitchen. She decided to turn and sit down with Maribel instead.

“You okay ‘Mione?” Maribel asked, sitting down next to the young witch, concerned.

“Yeah, just tired still. Hannah dragged me out not long after I woke up. Thank you for the drawings, and putting all those photos up,” Hermione smiled.

Maribel stroked Hermione’s hair, chuckling softly. “Hannah does have a silver tongue, doesn’t she?”

They both laughed at that, happy to sit in silence, thinking over whatever was in their heads. 

“I think I want to tell Harry and Ron about me,” Hermione finally said, looking at the older witch for support.

“They’re not worth your time if they react negatively,” Maribel’s voice carried a confidence, the younger witch wished she had.

“I’m just scared, especially with Ron, he’s got such a temper at times,” Her voice shook softly, but continued distantly. “They were both so  _ angry _ with me this year. Harry got a new Firebolt, just out of nowhere. I thought Sirius Black might have sent it to him, so I told McGonagall, as neither of them wouldn’t. They didn’t speak to me for ages afterwards, and most of Gryffindor too. And then, Ron thought that Crookshanks had eaten his stupid rat Scabbers, so  _ he _ stopped talking to me again.”

Maribel pulled Hermione into a hug, tightly holding onto her. “Honestly, Hermione, they’re not your friends if they let this come between them. And if they do, then they’re the ones who have lost, you’ve got us. Now and forever.”

The French witch felt hot tears soak her top, pressing soft kisses to Hermione’s head. They sat like that for a while, before Maribel pulled back, cupping Hermione’s chin to face her.

“Anyway,” Maribel said. “If they  _ dare _ hurt you again, Ros and I will be having words with the pair. We’ll be there most of the year, Ros as an heir to the Founders, has been invited along. I won’t hesitate hexing either of them.”

Hermione giggled, Maribel having the desired effect of cheering her up. They wandered up the path towards the Quidditch pitch together, and spent the rest of the day playing with everyone else.

They all went together to Diagon Alley the following week, Ros had managed to get all their equipment lists for the following year early. Hermione made sure to pick up some food for Harry, who had sent a letter explaining the new diet Dudley was on, begging for food parcels.

They wandered around happily, Ros buying Hannah new Quidditch supplies as a congratulations for passing the first round of tryouts. Mike had an interview for Gringotts as a Curse-Breaker later in the summer, so Maribel had taken him off to get new robes for the interview.

When they got back to the house, all piled with various bags, Hermione found a letter from Ron waiting, asking her if she wanted to go to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys and Harry. Biting her lip, she quickly crafted back an apology, explaining that her family were going to be busy, but she’d meet them on the train.

“It’ll be easier when they know,” Hermione said to her empty room, watching Pig fly off towards The Burrow. She quickly sent Hedwig off with a letter to Harry, his food parcel, and a cake Ros had helped her make for his birthday.

The day before they were due to leave for the World Cup, Martin and Lily had returned, quickly getting everyone to agree to a sleepover in the living room. Maribel and Ros had gone off to make sure they had packed everything, and by the time they came back, there was a muggle horror movie on the TV, and a giant pillow fort all over the floor.

Needless to say, when they tried to spell it all away the following morning, there was a giant pillow monster quickly appearing to protect it’s fort.

“Merlin Lily, why did you have to do  _ that  _ for?” Ros shouted, as she tried desperately to fight the monster.

The girl in question just shrugged, grinning widely. “Figured Mike might want some curse breaking experience!”

Half an hour later, they finally managed to get the spell to break. Luckily, it had broken nothing, as all it held as a weapon was a cushion.

Maribel had glared murderously at Lily, who cleverly hid by Hermione until everyone was ready to go.

“Okay so, we’ll be apparating to a muggle campsite. Most people will be arriving by Portkey though, and there’ll be loads of people from everywhere, so stay together,” Ros ordered, as the family shouldered their backpacks.

As there were now 8 of them that could Apparate, the younger ones partnered up, leaving Amy, Eve, and Mike to take the spare supplies between themselves.

“Lady Ravenclaw, perfectly on time, thank you very much.” The group looked up to see a pair of grumpy looking wizards, one of whom decided to bow, very deeply, to Ros. Hermione wondered if they were meant to be trying to look like Muggles, as one of them was wearing a kilt and a poncho.

“Lovely to see you both again,” Ros replied formly to the pair. Maribel had stepped up to link her arm through Ros’s. “My wife, Lady Maribel Ravenclaw,” she introduced.

The two wizards gaped at her for a minute, and Hermione was reminded rather violently of Maribel’s talk of the Thrall. They both managed a deep bow at her, turning rather purple.

The wizard in a kilt coughed harshly, before pulling out a scroll, reading it quickly. “Ravenclaw, first field you come to, Mr Robert’s the site manager.”

They nodded cordially, the two adults leading the way with grace. The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the family, who, after staring at the wizards, hurried after the adults.

Once out of sight of the wizards, Maribel and Ros started laughing. “Mari, you didn’t need to use your Thrall, you know!” Ros said through bouts of laughter.

“It was an opportunity I did not want to miss!” Maribel retorted, grinning wildly.

After a quick chat with Mr Roberts, the Muggle site manager, the family found their plot easily. Hermione was quickly enthralled with the sight around them. By the time she had drawn her eyes away from a rather large tent, looking more like a small castle, complete with birdbath in a front garden, Ros had spelled the tent up, and ducked inside.

Hermione looked confused as one by one, her family disappeared inside. 

“‘Mione, what are you staring at, get in here!” Katie’s arm shot out, pulling Hermione rather ungracefully inside.

“I love magic,” Hermione breathed, looking around in amazement at the apartment inside. This was obviously Maribel’s tent, as it looked just like a Parisian highrise, complete with a window looking over the Eiffel Tower.

“Right, Hermione, you’re sharing with Katie, Eve, Amy, and Hannah.” Ros called out, pointing to a doorway. “Martin, Amy, you’re in there. Boys, the other room!”

Each room had a set of bunk beds in, with a shared bathroom. There was a fully working kitchen at the back, and a living room in the middle. The group opted to sit outside the tent, Maribel had quickly built a fire, the family sitting around, listening to Lily tell stories of Gringotts, and the Goblins.

It was already after lunch by the time they arrived, the match due to start later in the evening. Ros and Maribel had to keep leaving to meet with various Ministry officials, all wanting to have a word with the pair.

As the afternoon gave way to evening, the Ministry officials who had been trying to stop blatant use of magic gave up. For every one they spoke to, another ten would start throwing spells.

Vendors appeared, selling all sorts of various souvenirs, both teams national flags, scarves, and figurines. Martin had disappeared, returning with an armful of what looked like brass binoculars.

“They’re Omnioculars!” He explained, handing a pair out to everyone. “They can replay the action, fast forward, do a play by play! Very useful, especially as the Irish are playing on Firebolts!”

Soon, the family got up to follow the lights floating in the air, into the forest. On the other side, there was a gigantic stadium, lit up in red and green, with golden walls.

Ros led the family away from the main path, and away from the crowds. They found themselves outside a private entrance, where Ros placed the tip of her wand against a brick in the wall.

Seeing their confused faces, she shrugged. “Private entrance, we have our own box. Fudge invited us to stay with him, but I already got the tickets for the box.”

“Also, didn’t fancy having to rub elbows with him all evening!” Maribel laughed, elbowing her wife in her ribs.

Once the doorway opened up, the family piled into an elevator, speeding upwards towards their box. Inside the box, there were 13 chairs, all padded. They all immediately went to the edge, gasping at the giant pitch. It was so wide, that all Hermione could make out of the other side was a sparkle of flashing wands.

The match itself was exhilarating, Hermione thought, following the family dumbly back to the campsite. It was  _ nothing _ like any match at Hogwarts. It was fast paced, and way more dirty. Even the referee was distracted by the veela - Maribel finding it all hilarious when they started throwing fireballs, waving off the questions of whether or not she could do it.

At the end, Hermione had spotted Harry and the Weasleys in the Minister's box, complete with the Malfoy family behind. She noticed with some amusement that Ron stumbled over himself when the Bulgarian Seeker entered the box.

The family had gone to bed, listening to the cheers of the Irish supporters outside.

Almost as soon as Hermione had nodded off, she was woken by Maribel shouting at them to get up. Dazed, the girls all quickly got dressed, hearing Ros and Maribel shouting in the tent. When they stumbled out, both witches had their wands drawn, along with Amy and Martin, all with pale faces.

“Hannah, Mike, I need you all to take everyone back to the house,  _ now _ !” Ros growled out, pushing the group out of the tent hurriedly.

Before anyone could ask why, they heard the screams, saw people running away. Further down the field, there were a group of wizards in dark masks, wands pointing upwards, jeering, and drunk. Hermione gasped as she spotted the four figures above their heads, being thrown about like ragdolls. More wizards joined the group, as they marched down the path, throwing spells at the figures in the air, or around them.

With a muffled scream, Hermione recognised one of the figures at Mr Roberts, the Muggle manager.

“Death Eaters, go now!” Maribel shouted. “We’re going to help stop them. Hannah, Mike, go!”

The last thing Hermione saw was Martin and Ros throwing spells at the group, being joined by other wizards, before she felt a tug and was apparated away.


	10. Back to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your reviews! Enjoy this chapter - we'll be seeing our veela very soon!

Hermione, in an attempt to get the vision of the Muggles being treated so inhumanly out of her head, immediately went into the kitchen when the group landed back at the house. She barely heard Hannah shouting after her. Hermione knew she had a cut on her arm, carefully making sure that none of the blood split down.

Once inside the kitchen, she methodically went around the kitchen, putting the kettle on, and grabbing cups out of cupboards. Hannah watched her carefully, wand still clutched tightly in her hand.

“Hermione, let me heal your cut,” Hannah asked softly. She frowned when Hermione shook her head, but opted not to push it, as it wasn’t bleeding much anymore. Hannah silently helped Hermione carry cups of hot chocolate into the living room.

Everyone was pale, Mike had his wand in his hand still as well. Nobody dared speak, waiting for any sign that the others would return. They waited like this for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, they heard the front door bang open. Like a rocket, they shot out of the living room, more wands drawn.

Hannah stepped forward first, her wand pointing at the four in the doorway.

“Hannah, what are you doing?” Eve shouted, reaching for Hannah’s wand.

“No,” Hannah cut across, staring hard at Ros, Maribel, Martin, and Amy. “What team do I have a tryout for?” She asked, her wand flicking between the four.

“Falmouth Falcons Quidditch Team,” Ros answered slowly, nodding when Hannah finally lowered her wand.

Surging forward, the family met in the middle of the foyer, relief clear on all their faces. They finally managed to move to the living room, keeping close together on the sofa.

“Maribel,” Hannah called, “‘Mione’s got a cut on her arm, she got splinched.”

Maribel shot off the couch, grabbing Hermione to reveal the wound on her arm. “ _ Merde _ , Hermione,” The cut wasn’t deep, but it stretched from her wrist around to the back of her elbow. Silently, Maribel cleaned it up, waving her wand to heal it, stitching skin back together.

Ros appeared at her elbow with a rag and a bowl of warm water. The French witch gratefully took it, methodically wiping away the blood left.

“What happened?” Hermione finally asked, looking away from the now healed cut on her arm. Maribel had tugged the young witch into her side firmly, and they were sitting close together on the sofa.

“Death Eaters.” Martin replied gravely, letting Amy play with his hair.

Ros continued, when Martin let his sentence trail off. “They were most likely drunk. When the war ended, the Ministry managed to round most of them up. Obviously, some escaped, and others claimed to be acting under the influence of the  _ Imperius _ charm. No way to prove it, so they were declared innocent. They were showing off that there’s still some around, that escaped.”

“Somebody cast the Dark Mark as well,” Amy said, eyes focussing intently on the wall. “The Death Eaters got scared at that. Disapparated away. We managed to catch the Muggles before they fell, though.”

“What’s the Dark Mark?” Katie asked quietly.

“It’s Voldemort’s symbol,” Maribel answered, looking at Katie firmly. “He, or his followers would send it into the sky whenever they killed anyone. It was awful, never knowing if you would return to find it over your own home. Or even see if over the sky. Everyone’s worst fear.”

“Why would the Death Eaters scatter when it appeared?” Eddie asked.

“Because a lot, if not all of them, would have worked very hard to stay  _ out _ of Azkaban.” Ros replied softly. “They would have denounced Voldemort, and given a lot of useful information to return to their normal lives. They’d be frightened if he ever returns. Whoever cast it, either was trying to  _ support _ them, or scare them.”

“I’m not sure what’s worse,” Amy mumbled. “Only Death Eaters know how to cast it.”

They all slept in the living room that night, mattresses placed to form beds on the floor.

The next morning, Martin and Amy left, promising to keep in contact with Ros. Everyone else slowly wandered around the house, never being far from another. Hermione received a letter late afternoon from Harry and Ron, detailing what had happened at the World Cup, and Mr Crouch’s House Elf being accused of casting the Dark Mark. Harry added another paragraph at the end explaining about his scar hurting, and the dream he had.

Hermione quickly wrote a reply, imploring Harry to write to Professor Dumbledore about it, leaving out the fact she  _ knew _ already about the World Cup. 

She also sent a reply to Gabrielle’s latest letter, who was very proud of her recent prank she pulled on her sister, Fleur. The prank had involved somehow changing the colour of all her school uniform to a bright pink, and a bucket of feathers falling on her head. Hermione wrote about the Quidditch World Cup, and the veela’s she had seen. She left out everything bad, instead choosing to explain how the Irish spent most of the night celebrating.

Ros was in and out of the Ministry over the next week, apparently the Governors and the Ministry were finalising the details of the Triwizard Tournament, and Ros was a bit like a go-between.

“Mr Crouch’s new assistant - a Weasley boy - he’s been having a tough luck of it all, howlers left and right. I put a flame-proof spell on his desk after the tenth time it set on fire whilst I was there.” Ros joked one evening over dinner.

The Sunday before they were all due to go back to Hogwarts, Hermione was sat with Maribel in the library. Maribel called her up there before bed, and now sat with a book in hand.

Slowly, Maribel handed the book over. “This is  _ The Book of Veela _ ,” she explained. “It can only be read by those who have had it handed to them by a veela, or are veela themselves.”

Hermione flicked through the pages, barely remembering some of the figures she had seen drawn on the pages. “Why are you giving me this?”

“I think it may come in handy, but I’m not sure entirely,” came the honest answer, and a shrug of shoulders. “It’s got plenty of enchantments on. One of them is quite useful actually. You see, you can finish that tonight, but you will not remember any of it. No matter how many times you read it.”

“What’s the point of that?” Hermione asked, looking at the book carefully.

“If the knowledge is needed, it will come to you, passages at a time. Useful information, at the important time. It is too much information otherwise. It is the history of the veela, every secret. You’ll find yourself not able to talk about it’s contents with non-veelas. It is also the only book detailing the veelas, as it was written by them. One for each family line, handed down.”

“Before you read that, however, there is something else,” Hermione jumped when she heard Ros speak, not realising that the other witch had entered the room.

She watched as Ros moved across to sit next to Maribel, who seemed to be quite nervous about whatever this was.

“This is completely your choice, ‘Mione,” Ros started softly. “Maribel and I, we, well, we can’t have children. So instead we started our little family here. To get the Ministry off our backs, we technically foster you all, until you turn 17. Of course, that has no impact on you, so we do it so you’ll always have a home here.”

Maribel started speaking from there, continuing so fluidly from Ros. “However, we want to offer you more than that. We want to  _ adopt _ you. You can have the choice of changing your name - nobody else has so far. But we would legally be your parents. You would become part of the Ravenclaw House, including the normal rubbish that comes with any big Wizarding name. Technically, you would become Lady Hermione, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“It wouldn’t affect Hogwarts. I’m afraid Professor McGonagall would know, as she is the Keeper of the Quil, which lists all magical children, and their 11th birthday. But she just makes a tease of me rivalling the Weasley’s whenever she spots me.” Ros continued, reacting to the slight panic on Hermione’s face.

“‘Mione, you can have time to think this over, we have books on what exactly this entails, and you wouldn’t even need to go to the Ministry as you’re under 17,” Maribel trailed off.

“No, I,” Hermione stammered, tugging painfully at her lip. “I think I want this. You’ve both been more my parents than my own. No. I know I want this. If that’s okay?”

Suddenly, Hermione found herself in Ros and Maribel’s embrace, tears streaming down all their faces. 

The next morning, Ros was taking Hermione to Kings Cross. Maribel was taking Katie and Evan, Amy partnered up with Eddie, and finally Eve was taking Luke. 

“It’s getting really easy to do this lately,” Ros joked to Hermione as they approached the barrier. “Our family’s getting smaller.”

They both leaned against the solid wall, and not a second later, they fell sideways through it, appearing on Platform 9 3/4s. Hermione immediately noticed Harry next to a family of red hair.

“Right, ‘Mione,” Ros said, pulling them over to the side. “I put a few books on what the process of adoption is like, and what it means taking the titles, in your trunk. Remember to write, and enjoy your year. Don’t tell anyone about the Triwizard until it’s announced, okay?”

“Okay, thank you for everything!” Hermione almost cried, wrapping her arms around the witch. Smiling, Ros planted a kiss on her cheeks.

“I’ll see you soon, and remember, if Harry and Ron say anything bad, you’ve got us visiting soon. And I’m sure Katie takes her position of your sister  _ very _ seriously.”

Nodding, Hermione gave Ros one last hug, before falling through the crowd to get on the train. She quickly found Harry and Ron in one of the compartments as the train pulled away..

“Hey Hermione, how was your summer?” Harry asked, smiling at the bush-haired witch.

“Who was that you were with?” Ron cut across, staring hard.

Hermione bit her lip, she had wanted to wait until they were at Hogwarts, but obviously now couldn’t. “It’s a long story, Ron.”

“Take your time,” Harry said, stopping whatever Ron was going to say.

She nodded, grateful for Harry’s understanding. “After my first year, my,” Hermione paused already, closing her eyes against the tears. “The Grangers. They didn’t pick me up from Kings Cross. Looking back on it, they never understood magic, and Hogwarts was the final straw. I was waiting there for  _ hours _ , hoping they would show up.”

Hermione let the tears fall now, having not told this story before, and old wounds seem to be reopening. She chanced a glance at Harry, who had unshed tears himself, and Ron, who looked confused, more than anything.

“I didn’t know what to do, when a woman came up to me, and let me go home with her. The woman I was with. Her and her wife have been taking in Hogwarts students for years. They treat us all like their children. Merlin, we  _ are _ their children. I’ve been with them since that summer. Ros, the woman I was with, she’s the last heir of Ravenclaw, but takes in students from every House. We’re a family.  _ They’re _ my family. They’re starting the adoption process this week.”

Before anyone could react, Ron had jumped up from his seat, his face red with anger. “You mean to tell me you’ve been  _ lying _ to us? This whole time?! What about the Grangers we met in Diagon Alley? Oh, I bet they were lies too!”

Harry stared at Ron in shock, Hermione’s tears falling more now, trying to cut across Ron, “I’m sorry Ron, I didn’t want to lie, but it’s not an easy thing to say!”

“No!” He shouted. “You  _ lied _ to us. We’re supposed to be your friends! And you  _ did _ go to the Quidditch World Cup! Dad said that the Ravenclaws  _ helped _ when the fighting broke out! What, couldn’t bear to see us?”

“No, actually,” Hermione stood up angrily. “Ros and Maribel told us at the start of the summer,  _ before _ you invited me! And you are my friends! It  _ hurts _ Ron! It hurts the fact that my own parents didn’t want me anymore, it hurts that I still have nightmares about it! They moved to  _ Australia.  _ That's how bad my own parents didn’t want me!”

“Well at least you’re living your life with  _ them _ ,” Ron snarled, his wand shaking in his hand. Hermione drew hers as well, in response. “Too busy for us. Might as well go cuddle up next to  _ Malfoy _ -”

“Ron, enough!” Harry shouted, standing up, pushing himself between the pair.

“No Harry! She’s a lying little snake, we’ve  _ met _ your parents!”

“You met Ros and Maribel transfigured as them, Ron,” Hermione retorted.

“I bet you told them about Sirius too, didn’t you?” Ron shouted, his wand raising to point at Hermione.

Hermione’s own snapped up, small sparks appearing at the end. “No actually, I didn’t. I would  _ never _ -”

“Oh but you’d lie to us about  _ your family _ !” 

Suddenly, Hermione’s patience cracked, and she flicked her wand silently at her trunk. It shrunk down enough to be put in her pocket. Neither Ron or Harry said anything when Hermione stormed out of the compartment, taking Crookshanks with her.

“‘Mione, what happened?” Katie grabbed the still crying witch, pulling her into a compartment with Angelina, Fred, and George.

“I told Ron and Harry,” Hermione sobbed, letting Katie pull her into a hug tightly. “Ron just shouted about how I was a liar!” 

She felt Katie tense, arms held her tighter. “Okay, ‘Mione, I need you to stay calm, for me please?”

“Perhaps we should go have a word with our  _ dear _ brother,” Fred and George said together, already rising to leave.

“No!” Katie put her arm out to block them. “No, I’m going to go speak to him. ‘Mione’s  _ my _ sister.”

Hermione pulled back, shaking her head. “Please don’t, I don’t want anyone to get in trouble over this. He’s not worth it.”

Katie wiped away Hermione’s tears softly. “Nobody, besides maybe him, will get into trouble. You stay with these three, they know about Ros and Maribel. Perhaps you should mention how good at flying you’ve gotten? I just want to have a chat.”

Before Hermione could stop her, Katie slid out of the door, Angelina taking her place easily.

“What did she mean you can fly?” The seventh year asked softly, the Weasley twins sitting on the edge of their chairs excitedly, looking at someone she could potentially recruit for the Quidditch team.

Katie flicked out her wand, stalking down the train angrily. Students pressed themselves against the walls as she passed. Suddenly, she threw open the compartment door, making the occupants inside jump.

“Ka-Katie,” Harry stammered. “What are you doing?” 

Ron turned a weird sort of purple at the sight of her eyes digging into him. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were all trying to dig themselves deeper into the chairs.

“You!” Katie growled, pointing her wand at Ron angrily. “You miserable little boy! How  _ pathetic _ can you be!”

“Katie, what on earth are you talking about?” Ron asked, looking nervously at the end of her wand.

“Hermione! She’s in  _ tears _ because of you!” Before Ron could react, Katie sent a spell flying to his face, causing it to bubble and swell suddenly. “You even  _ look _ at her again, and you’ll be getting a lot worse than that! You’re lucky  _ she _ still has some  _ misguided _ loyalty towards you, otherwise you’ll be attending Hogwarts this year as a bloody frog!”

Katie turned sharply, facing Harry, who threw his hands up in the air. They stared at each other for a moment, before Katie nodded, stalking back out of the compartment. Harry just stared dumbly at Ron, who had the word ‘PRAT’ written in boils across his forehead.

When they got to Hogwarts, Katie and Angelina linked arms with Hermione, with the twins glaring at anyone who came close. Amy came close by, looking at Hermione, then Katie, before nodding and turning away, looking around for the youngest Weasley boy.

Hermione barely paid attention during the sorting, letting Katie put food on her plate once it appeared. “C’mon, ‘Mione, eat up.” Fred said, leaning across the table.

Hermione looked around, spotting Ron and Harry further up the table. Ron turned red and quickly looked away when he’d been caught staring.

“Why does Ron have boils, Katie?” Hermione asked, absentmindedly moving her food around her plate.

“Ah, we had a chat. If he tries to remove it himself, it’ll add more words. It’ll take a while for Pomfrey to work out how to reverse it, if he even dares telling her.” Katie said proudly.

“Don’t worry, Hermione,” Fred started

“Our dear little  _ Ronnikins _ will have more done to him,” George continued

“We do need a new test subject!” They both finished, laughing loudly.

“ _ Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes _ survived your mother’s attempts to burn everything?” Angelina asked, grinning.

Before they could talk further, however, Dumbledore stood up to do the normal start of year announcements. Angelina was furious at the fact that Quidditch was stopped this year, but quickly calmed down when Dumbledore announced they could still use the pitch to play on.

As they were leaving, Angelina turned to face Katie and Hermione. “I take it you two  _ knew _ about this tournament from the start then right?”

Hermione grinned guilty, “Ros made us promise not to say anything.”

Fred and George, however, were busy planning ways to get their name passed this ‘impartial judge’. Hermione was sure she heard them mention an ageing potion.

In front of them, Ron’s robes suddenly rose up to attack him, wrapping around him, and lunging at whoever got close.

“Amy’s over there,” Katie nudged Hermione, laughing in the direction of the other girl who was waving her wand carefully by her side. She caught their eyes, giving a wink and a bow, before letting the spell fall away. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron said furiously looking around.

Eddie tripped him up as Ron ascended the stairs, quickly hiding in the crowd.

Hermione was sitting by herself in the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast, reading through one of the books Ros had given her about magial adoption. Harry slid into the seat next to her wearily.

“Morning Hermione,” he said, pulling some eggs on his plate.

“Morning Harry, good night?”

“Yeah,” Harry paused in his movements, looking at his friend. “Listen, I just want to say, I’m sorry for Ron. You know, it doesn’t make a difference to me. I wish you’d told us sooner, but I understand it, you know? I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Hermione threw her arms round him, hugging the boy tightly. “Oh Harry, I’m sorry! I was scared, and it’s no excuse, I know, but -”

“No, honestly, Hermione, it’s okay,” Harry interrupted, loosening his grip on the other witch. “I take it there's a few others here that live with you? And Katie?”

Hermione grinned, nodding. “Yeah, there’s 5 others.”

“And Ron isn’t safe from any of them, is he?”

“No, not really, they’re all quite protective.”

Both laughed, finishing their breakfast quietly.

Ron spent the next week avoiding Hermione, only talking to Harry. After his boils spread from just ‘PRAT’, to include other less appropriate words, he finally went to Madam Pomfrey to get it removed. Fred and George then started using him as a test subject for their latest creations.

“Are they ever going to lay off Ron?” Harry asked Hermione one evening in the common room.

She glanced up from her Potions essay to look at Ron - his tongue growing rapidly in size - and shrugged her shoulders. “If he apologises, they probably would?”

Her birthday came suddenly too, and with it, a rather large letter from Ros and Maribel. Hermione read it quickly. Then read it again. Then a third time, just to make sure she understood every word. Katie looked at her curiously, stroking Maribel’s owl.

“‘Mione, you alright?” Katie asked curiously.

“It’s official,” Hermione breathed, clutching the letter in her hand. “The adoption - it was finalised this morning.”

Katie leapt over the table, scattering food at Harry and the Weasley twins. Cheering, the Chaser pulled Hermione into a hug, tears streaming down both their faces. Katie was kissing her face, both smiling brightly.

“Miss Bell, need I remind you that this Hall is for breakfast, not leaping across tables?” Came the stern voice of Professor McGonagall. “However, given the situation, I will allow it.”

“Thank you Professor, it won’t happen again!” Katie said, still hugging Hermione tightly.

Hermione looked up as the Professor leaned down, lowering her voice. “And may I wish you a happy birthday, Miss Ravenclaw.” To both witches' great surprise, the normally stern Transfiguration Professor gave them both a wink, and a smile, before continuing on her way out the hall.

“Ha! You’re officially my sister now, ‘Mione!” Katie cheered one last time, before leaving for class.

Ron came up to Hermione at the end of their Herbology lesson the following week, constantly looking over his shoulder. Hermione stared at him, making it obvious she was waiting for him to speak first.

“Uh, listen, Hermione,” Ron started, aware of Harry lingering with them. “Look, I was an absolute prat about the whole thing, and I’m sorry. I - uh - shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Hermione looked at him, and nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best she was ever going to get from Ron. “You  _ were _ a prat.” 

However, Hermione still waited for a week, before insisting her new  _ official  _ siblings stop tormenting him. Fred and George made no such promises.

The day that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due to arrive was a bright, but cold one. Their classes finished 30 minutes early at the end, leaving the students to assemble outside the Entrance Hall. McGonagall was fretting about the students, ensuring everyone was appropriate.

Hermione was getting increasingly annoyed with Ron’s suggestions on how the other two schools were getting here, wishing she could be curled up in the library. She hadn’t even had a chance to open  _ The Book of Veela _ yet. Just as she was about to cast a warming charm, Dumbledore called out.

“Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

Hermione followed his pointed finger to an odd shape in the sky, getting larger the faster it approached. She was pleasantly surprised when Colin Creevey’s younger brother - Dennis - had the closest guess to what it was. Flying House indeed. Beauxbatons landed on the grounds with a  _ thump _ . It was a giant, horse drawn carriage, powder blue, and bigger than the house Hermione grew up in.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped out as soon as the carriage landed, fiddling with something on the side, releasing a set of stairs. Out of the carriage, came the easily largest woman Hermione had ever seen in her life. She must have been taller than Hagrid, dressed head to toe in black satin. Dumbledore started clapping, the rest of the Hogwarts students following quickly.

There was a part at the back of Hermione’s mind that recognised the woman as Madam Maxine, as she fit the description Maribel had told them all. However, as the Headmistresses walked towards Dumbledore, her attention was taken by a group of students following behind her. All in the same powder blue, huddled together for warmth. Hermione’s eyes searched through the group, but she was unsure what exactly she was searching for. All of the Beauxbaton students were staring up at the castle in apprehension, and were too far away for Hermione to find whatever it was she was searching for.

Sighing, she turned her head away when they filed into the Great Hall. The Hogwarts students were now waiting for Durmstrang to arrive. There were more speculations now, having seen what the French arrived in.

Suddenly, Lee Jordan shouted, “Look at the lake!” All heads turned sharply down towards it, and the lake rippled, bubbles forming on the surface. 

“That’s a mast!” Harry said to Ron and Hermione.

Finally, a huge boat emerged entirely from the lake, looking more like a wreck than an actual working boat. It lowered a bridge to the ground with a thump, and out poured around a dozen people, walking up towards the assembled students.

As the Durmstrang students got closer, Hermione was able to make out the figure of the man in front - he was tall, but with shortly trimmed hair, and all of them looked quite bulky. Whilst everyone was distracted by Dumbledore greeting the Headmaster - Karkaroff - Hermione finally managed to cast her warming spell.

  
As they all finally were allowed back into the castle, Ron nudged Harry with his elbow - “Harry, that was  _ Krum _ !”


	11. The Goblet of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time has come! Thanks for the reviews, and enjoy this chapter!

The Hogwarts students filed back into the Great Hall, taking their seats. The Beauxbaton students were already settled at the Ravenclaw table, whereas the Durmstrang group hesitated in the doorway.

Ron was hissing at the Durmstrang students, “Over here! Come and sit here! Hermione budge up - oh too late”

The Durmstrang lot eventually decided on sitting at Slytherin, and Hermione turned around to study the Beauxbaton students. She still wasn’t sure what exactly she was searching for, but her eyes landed on a girl sitting next to Amy, chatting away happily. 

The girl was beautiful, with long silvery blonde hair falling around her face. And she looked up, catching Hermione’s eyes. Those beautiful, sparkling blue eyes. Hermione’s brain suddenly caught up to her, and she blushed at being caught, ducking her head, and whipping back round to face Harry and Ron. Hermione didn’t notice the blush that crossed the other girl’s face as well, and the widened eyes.

“Hey, why is Filch setting up 6 extra chairs?” Harry asked, oblivious to Hermione’s staring. Sure enough, there were 6 new chairs, 3 either side of Professor Dumbledore’s chair. 

“Two would be for the visiting Headteachers, I’m not sure about the other 4 though?”

Before they could discuss it further, the final few people entered, making their way up to the top table. Madame Maxime sat on Dumbledore’s left, whereas Karkaroff sat on his right. Dumbledore, however, remained standing, a smile beaming in place.

Before he could speak, however, Filch came running back into the Great Hall, Mrs Norris trailing behind him. Panting, he approached the top table, gasping for air. “May - may I announce -”

The banners hanging from the ceiling swapped from the usual house colours, to that of Ravenclaw, the door swinging open. Hermione grinned when she saw Ros and Maribel stroll in. Ros was dressed in deep blues, with ravens flying around the bottom, whereas Maribel wore a lighter blue, matching closely to the Beauxbatons uniform.

As the two women passed Hermione, they gave her a smile and a wink, giving the same to the others spread amongst the hall.

“Ah, Lady Rhosmari, and Lady Maribel,” Dumbledore said, arms held wide. “Welcome to Hogwarts, I hope you had a safe trip?”

“Of course, Professor,” Ros replied, shaking his hand. Maribel opted to kiss his cheeks, as the standard French greeting. “My wife just got very interested in Peeves, we apologise for our lateness.”

“It’s no problem, please, take your seats,” Dumbledore replied, motioning to the two chairs next to Madame Maxime.

Smiling, they both took their seats, Maribel greeting her former Headmistress warmly. Ros threw an apologetic smile towards Filch, who was still trying to catch his breath against the wall.

Dumbledore flicked his wand, changing the banners back, before smiling warmly at the students. “For those that don’t know, I shall give a quick introduction - Ladies Rhosmari and Maribel of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Ravenclaw. They will be staying at Hogwarts for the majority of the Tournament. I will trust you all treat them with the respect they deserve.”

“Now,” Dumbledore continued, settling the murmurs that had started once their identities were announced. Hermione glared at Malfoy’s face, already looking like he was going to go suck up to them. “May I say good evening to students, ghosts, and more importantly, guests, to Hogwarts. I take great pleasure in welcoming everyone to our hallowed halls this year, and I hope your stay will be comfortable, and enjoyable. Any issues, please do not hesitate to inform one of our Professors.”

“Now, the Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast, so for now, please, eat, drink, and be merry!” Dumbledore clapped his hands, the tables immediately filling with various dishes.

The Great Hall immediately descended into conversations, seeming much louder than usual. “What’s that?” Ron asked, pointing at a large dish in front of them.

“Bouillabaisse.” Hermione replied curtly. “It’s French, I had it on holiday summer before last.”

“I take it that was with your Ravenclaw family as well?” Ron replied darkly.

“Well of course it was, Ronald.” Hermione retorted, seriously regretting her decision to make her family stop hexing him. Before he could respond, there was a blonde blur throwing themself at Hermione.

“Mi!” They shouted in her ear, hugging the older witch tightly.

Hermione’s eyes widened as she caught Gabrielle, returning the hug. “Gabby, what?”

“I ‘ave come ‘ere for ze year! And I ‘ave been learning Eenglish!” Gabby looked incredibly impressed with herself, grinning broadly.

“I can see that,” Hermione said, grinning back at the young girl. “It’s really good!”

The younger girl blushed under the praise, and turned her attention to the others around the table. “ _ Bonjour _ , I am Gabrielle Delacour.”

Ron gaped at the girl, flicking his eyes between her and Hermione in disbelief. Harry, thankfully, just took it in stride. “Hullo Gabrielle, I’m Harry Potter, and that,” poking Ron, “is Ron Weasley.” He took her offered hand, shaking it gently.

“Ze ‘Arry Potter?” Gabby leaned towards him, and laughed when Harry smiled and pulled his fringe back to show the scar.

Gabrielle grinning up at the table, waving happily to Maribel and Ros. Madame Maxime seemed to shoot the girl a glare, but was quickly distracted again by Maribel. She then turned around, and stuck her tongue out at the Ravenclaw table.

“Gabby, what are you doing?” Hermione asked, filling the young girl’s plate up with her requested food.

“My zeezter ees looking,” Gabby shrugged, picking up one of the chicken nuggets on her plate happily. 

“Oh, is Fleur here?” Hermione looked around at the Ravenclaw table curiously. She caught the eyes of the same girl as earlier, this time staring at  _ Hermione _ first. The other girl blushed and turned back to Amy.

“ _ Oui _ , zhe ees zitting next to Amy. You never saw ‘er before, did you?” Gabby replied, not looking up from her nuggets.

Hermione blushed, realising the mystery girl she was staring at was Fleur Delacour. “No, no I didn’t.”

About halfway through the meal Harry had taken over entertaining Gabrielle with stories of Hogwarts, and Ron had kept quiet. Hermione jumped when she saw a note float down towards her, and unravelled it quickly.

‘ _ Hermione - meet us at the end. Bring your friends. Ros _ ’

Harry was looking at her curiously, Gabby taking the impatient route and snagging the note, struggling to read the cursive. 

“Ros and Maribel want to meet you both after dinner,” Hermione explained quietly, smirking inwardly when she saw Ron gulp. Hermione gave a quick thumbs up to the pair at the top table, Maribel raising a glass silently in her direction.

Once the plates were emptied, Gabrielle amazed at how clean they were again, Dumbledore stood up again. Hermione finally noticed the final two additions to the top table, and whispered to the boys opposite them.

“Hey, that’s Mr Crouch and Ludo Bagman, isn’t it? They helped organise the Tournament right?”

Ron nodded, Harry whispering back, “Yeah, guess they’re here to see it start, right?”

“The moment has come,” Dumbledore started, eyes sweeping around the hall. “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a brief explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation.”

Dumbledore paused for the polite applause, and then continued, “And Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

There was a much louder round of applause, although Hermione couldn’t tell whether that was because he was a more likeable character, or his fame as a Beater.

“Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament. They will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, and Lady Ravenclaw on the panel which will judge the champions’ efforts.”

There was a noticeable stiffness in the students at the mention of ‘champions’, everyone looking eagerly forward. Dumbledore smiled, and motioned at Filch, “ the casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch.”

Filch approached Dumbledore, carrying a large wooden chest carefully. He placed it down on a table that had appeared next to the Headmaster.

“The instructions,” Dumbledore continued. “For the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman. They have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be 3 tasks, spaced throughout the year. Each one will test the champions in many different ways. Their magical prowess, daring, powers of deduction. Of course, it will also test their ability to cope with danger.”

The Great Hall was so silent, Hermione was sure you could hear a pin drop from the Entrance Hall. 

“As you know, three champions compete in the Tournament. One from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tasks, and the final task will decide our winner, and win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by our impartial judge… The Goblet of Fire!”

At Dumbledore’s last word, he pointed his wand at the chest. It slowly melted away to reveal a large cup, made from stone. It was the sort of thing one would skip over, had it not been filled with dancing blue flames.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion need only write their name, and school, on a piece of parchment, then drop it into the Goblet. Tomorrow night, after our Halloween Feast, it will judge who is most worthy, and return their names to us. It will be left out in the Entrance Hall, for all to submit their names. However, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet myself, to ensure  _ nobody _ under the age of seventeen will be able to cross the line.”

There was a smattering of mutters breaking out at that, including the Weasley twins with their heads together. All noise stopped again when Dumbledore continued talking.

“I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to enter, do not do so lightly. Once a champion is selected, they  _ must _ see it through to the end. By entering your name, you enter a binding, magical contract, so there is no chance to back out. Please, sleep over this tonight, before you place your name in the Goblet. Good night to you all.”

As students stood up to leave, Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry’s sleeves shaking her head. Gabby kept herself buried in Hermione’s side, although that hadn’t stopped Madame Maxime from picking her up, with a nod at Hermione, and carrying the young witch outside with the Beauxbaton students.

Once only a few stragglers remained, Hermione grinned, and all but raced to the top table. Maribel met her halfway, spinning the Gryffindor in a hug. “Oh, ‘Mione, we’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too,” Hermione said softly, she turned to allow Ros to hug her as well. “I want to say thank you, so much. Those papers were the best present I  _ ever _ could have hoped to get.”

“You’re one of us now, officially, ‘Mione,” Ros said, “even if it does pain me to see you wear Gryffindor’s colours here!”

Ron coughed awkwardly behind them, although Harry had busied himself by talking to Professor McGonagall, who was the last teacher in the hall.

“Ah, Hermione, introduce us to your friends, please,” Ros said, spinning the girl around to face the two boys, and McGonagall.

“Yes, this is Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley,” Hermione said, motioning to the pair.

“It’s lovely to meet you both, Ladies Ravenclaw,” Harry said, reaching forward to shake their hands. Ron quickly repeated the phrase, shaking their hands, face white as a sheet.

“And the scary old woman in the green robes?” Ros asked, a bright smile plastered on her face.

McGonagall’s lips thinned slightly, although Hermione could have sworn the ends did jerk up. “This is Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.”

“Lady Ravenclaw, whilst you may not be my student anymore, I will not hesitate to put you in detention,” McGonagall said, fighting a smile.

“My dear Minerva, you wound me so!” Ros smiled back, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Anyway, I know I shouldn’t joke, I have managed to steal the brightest witch of her age from your lion’s grip! Rowena would be pleased!”

Professor McGonagall made a noise that could only be described as a  _ snort _ , and the trio of students were so utterly bewildered by the normally stern Professor.

“Anyway,” Maribel interrupted the staring contest happening between Ros and McGonagall. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves to you boys, and perhaps have a quick chat with  _ you _ ,  _ Monsieur _ Weasley.”

“Nothing too serious, of course,” Ros smoothly continued, both now staring at Ron. “We have already heard what has been happening to you from the letters received from our other children. We just wanted to ensure that Molly Weasley’s youngest son was the perfect gentleman she raised.”

Harry looked rather uneasy, so Maribel quickly turned to speak to him. “Of course, Harry Potter. We fought alongside your parents, Lily was absolutely brilliant at charms.”

“Really?” Harry asked, staring at Maribel in disbelief.

“Yeah, she was, Mr Potter,” Ros said, turning her attention from Ron to him. “I’m sure I’ve got photos somewhere of her and James. I’ll find them and give them to you as soon as I can. I’m afraid I don’t think I have an awful lot though.”

“No - no that’s perfect, if you have anything, please?” Harry stammered quickly, and Hermione was hit hard by the reminder Harry had  _ nothing _ to remember his parents by.

Ros smiled softly at him, nodding. “I will find them for you, Mr Potter. And for Mr Weasley,” Ron turned purple at the attention again. “I do hope you remain the perfect gentleman. I would  _ hate _ to have to speak to Molly about your behaviour.”

Ron nodded quickly, anything to escape the glare being sent to him.

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall interrupted. “I trust you can find your way back to the common room? Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, I’ll take you up there now.” She turned, Ron quickly on her heels. Harry took one last smile up at Ros and Maribel before following.

“How much did they tell you about Ron?” Hermione asked once the other three had left the hall.

“Katie gave us an overview. Remind me to praise her on her boils hex,” Maribel said, smirk in place.

“Have you forgiven him, ‘Mione?” Ros asked softly, cupping the girl’s cheek in her hand.

“He does act like a prat a lot,” Hermione shrugged. “He and Harry were my first friends. Although if he keeps it up, I’m not sure if I will forgive him again.”

Maribel and Ros nodded. “Gabby’s back to being attached to your side again, as well,” Maribel teased. Hermione blushed.

“Her sister kept staring at me too.” Hermione mumbled.

“Really? Fleur?” Ros said, sharing a glance with Maribel.

“Yeah,” Hermione mused. “I suppose I would stare too if my 8 year old sister attached herself to somebody else though.”

Maribel laughed, “true, that’s very true!”

“I wouldn’t worry much about it, although I’m sure you and Fleur would get along - she’s one of the top students in her year as well,” Ros said softly.

“Well, we shouldn’t keep you any longer, ‘Mione,” Maribel said, pulling the girl into a hug again. “We’ll let you get some sleep. And I need to find those photos of James and Lily too.”

They all said their goodnights, Hermione ascending the familiar route back to her dorm. Lavender and Pavarti were already asleep, leaving a light on for Hermione.

Despite the following day being a Saturday, there were a lot of students eating in the Great Hall early that morning. Hermione had sat herself near the doorway, completing her Transfiguration essay whilst the boys were still sleeping upstairs. She had started it last night before falling asleep. Hermione could hear students milling about the Entrance Hall, cheering whenever someone put their name in the Goblet.

Harry sat down next to her, pulling a bit of toast towards him. “Do you know who’s put their name in the Goblet?”

“Hi Harry,” Hermione replied pointedly, she finally finished the essay. “All the Durmstrang lot did, and Angelina. Not sure who else though.”

Harry nodded, as Hermione put the scroll away. They both finished eating silently.

After Harry had eaten, they both walked into the Entrance Hall, taking a seat on the benches piled up around the Goblet. Around it, there was a floating, wispy, golden-white line - the Age Line, Dumbledore had drawn.

Fred and George came running into the Entrance Hall excitedly, not long after a Slytherin had put her name in the Goblet.

“We finally finished it!” Fred whispered triumphantly to Harry and Hermione.

“Finished what?” Harry whispered back.

“The  _ ageing _ potion!” George replied.

“One drop each - we only need to be a few months older!” Fred finished.

“It’s not going to  _ work _ ,” Hermione sang, running her finger along the spine of  _ The Book of Veela _ .

“Oh yeah?”

“Why’s that Granger?”

“Because that -” finger circling the Goblet, “is an Age Line. Drawn by Professor Dumbledore himself.”

“Yeah?”

“And?”

“And Professor Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by something as pathetically dimwitted as an  _ Ageing Potion _ !”

“Ah but that’s why it’s so brilliant!”

“Because it’s so  _ pathetically dimwitted _ !”

Hermione just shook her head, letting the twins do what they want. Smirking, the Weasley twins stood on a bench, preparing to dive towards the Goblet like a swimmer. As the crowd quieted down, they dove towards the Goblet, past the line, landing next to each other.

There was an uproar of cheers as the boys danced on the inside of the line. Just as they reached to put their slips in the Goblet, there was a bang, shooting both of them out of the circle, and near the doorway.

Just as the two twin’s sat up, there was another bang. The Hall was deathly silent, as two, identical, white beards began rapidly growing. The two argued their way out of the Entrance Hall, leading to more cheers.

“I’m going to go see if Ron’s awake, do you want to come?” Harry asked Hermione, once the commotion settled down.

“No, I think I’ll head up to the library soon, but I’ll catch up with you later,” Hermione replied. As soon as Harry left the Hall, the Beauxbaton students arrived. Hermione was about to go and find a nook to read  _ The Book of Veela _ , but something held her in place.

She noted that Gabrielle was absent, although Hermione doubted it wouldn’t take her long to cause some sort of mischief. Or meet Peeves. She couldn’t decide what would be worse. Hermione clapped along with the other students as, one by one, the French students placed their name in the cup. 

The Gryffindor was biting her lip as she studied Fleur Delacour curiously. The witch was, in Hermione’s opinion, an absolute beauty. She even seemed to  _ glide _ along the floor. And those sparkling blue eyes, Hermione could get lost in. And she was caught staring again. Hermione’s face flushed pink, turning her face away.

Hermione’s concentrated study of the stones beneath her were interrupted by two shiny black shoes stepping into her vision. She threw her head up, blush darkening as she saw Fleur Delacour standing in front of her. Hermione couldn’t help the thought that she was even more beautiful up close.

Fleur’s face had a pink tinge to it, as she stood awkwardly in front of Hermione. Hermione spoke first. “Uh, hi, hiya, you’re Fleur right? It’s lovely to finally meet you, I’m Hermione Granger.”

“ _ Bonjour _ ‘Ermione,” Fleur replied softly, ignoring the outstretched hand to kiss both the girl’s cheeks. When she pulled back, Fleur had a full blush on her face. “Eets lovely to meet you too. Gabby talks about you a lot.”

Hermione’s blush deepened as well. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Fleur.”

“Zank you, eet es a big castle. Maybe you could give me a tour,  _ non _ ?” Fleur stammered out, staring at Hermione.

“Yes, yes of course, I’d love to!” Fleur’s face broke out in a huge smile. Hermione was about to stand up, swinging her bag over her shoulder when a boy called Fleur in for breakfast. Hermione swore she heard Fleur growl at him.

“Per’aps zome ozzer time?” Fleur asked. If Hermione heard the sad tone, she ignored it.

“I’ll be in the library all day,” Hermione replied.

“ _ Magnifique _ ! I zall zee you later ‘Ermione!” Fleur kissed both of Hermione’s cheeks again, and practically skipped into the Great Hall.

Hermione stared after her for a minute, before shaking her head out of it’s stupor. Swearing under her breath, she  _ knew _ she needed to read  _ The Book Of Veela _ now.


	12. The Four Champions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the reviews! I just want to say that Fleur will be her usual confident self, however, I am a massive fan of Fleur being an absolute mess around Hermione, so I will be playing with that for a little while! Enjoy!

Hermione found her favourite corner of the library with practised steps. It was hidden against one of the windows, letting in enough natural light that Hermione rarely had to use the lamp. Once comfortable, she pulled out  _ The Book of Veela _ , finger tracing the lettering on the front.

It seemed utterly pointless, a book which you could never fully remember their contents. A waste of a morning reading it. But yet, Maribel had given it to her, obviously for some reason. It was quite remarkable, holding a book detailing every secret of a race that avoided any secrets being revealed.

Hermione sighed, biting her lip, before finally opening the first page.

The Gryffindor, hidden away in her reading nook, finished the last page just before lunch. Hermione closed the book carefully, and let it rest on the table. There was  _ something _ quite weird about reading a book, from start to finish, and not remembering a word that had been written. But at the same time, Hermione was unable to close the book once opened.

She sighed again, placing  _ The Book of Veela _ in her bag. Now, all Hermione had to do was work out her next problem. Fleur Delacour. Hermione wanted to pull out a sheet of parchment and start trying to find books discussing why Hermione was acting that way with the older girl. 

Hermione rested her head in her arms, groaning. It could never be an  _ easy _ year could it, she thought dryly. 

“‘Ermione, are you, uh,  _ bon _ ?” Came Fleur’s soft voice. Hermione’s brain ground to a halt again, and then she sat bolt upright, staring at Fleur Delacour standing in front of her. Hermione blushed again, and made a mental note to see if there’s any spell that would  _ hide _ said blush.

“Hi Fleur, I’m good, yeah I’m good, how are you?” Hermione rushed out.

Fleur’s face had a pink tinge again, and she nodded. “You were, uh. I don’t know ‘ow to zay eet een Eenglish -  _ gémissante _ ?”

Hermione’s brain finally managed to reboot itself. “Groaning, I think is what you’re looking for?”

Hermione swore, in that moment, that she wanted to be the one to make Fleur’s face light up like that always. And she made a mental note of that comment, to add to the list of odd behaviours she really needed to find a book on.

“ _Oui_ _merci_ , ‘Ermione!” Fleur had a bright smile on her face. “ _Groaning_ , groaning.”

“It sounds better in French!” Hermione blurted out.

Both girls blushed, Hermione wished the floor would just swallow her up now. Fleur managed a small smile at Hermione. 

“Ah, do you want the tour now, Fleur?” Hermione finally managed to ask.

Fleur beamed at her, nodding excitedly. “ _Oui_ _s’il vous plaît_ , if you do not mind?”

Hermione nodded, quickly packing the rest of her things away. She led Fleur from the library, reciting facts from  _ Hogwarts: A History _ as they explored the castle together. Both of them completely forgot about lunch, and were sitting down by the Black Lake. 

“And that’s everything really, it’s big, but I’m sure plenty of students will help you get from one place to another, and I’m rambling again, I’m sorry!” Hermione squeaked out, ducking her face behind her hair.

Fleur giggled, twirling one of Hermione’s strands around her fingers. “ _ Non _ , don’t zay zorry, eets very adorable, ‘Ermione.”

Hermione sharply looked at Fleur, her face blushing darkly. Fleur’s face had it’s usual pink on it, and she was avoiding looking at the other girl.

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly, her breath catching in her throat. Fleur looked up to meet Hermione, reaching a hand out to cup her face. Hermione bit her lip, acutely aware of how close the two had become.

“‘Ermione,” Fleur mumbled, eyes flicking down to Hermione’s lips, and then back up to her eyes.

Suddenly, there was a thud as a small blonde blur threw herself at the pair, and began excitedly chatting in French. Hermione threw herself backwards, determined to put some distance between the two, and Fleur glared murderously at her little sister.

“Gabrielle! Eenglish!” Fleur snapped angrily, looking at Hermione nervously.

“I - I need to go, I’ll see you both later, I need to do my Defense essay, bye Fleur!” Hermione stuttered out, quickly grabbing her bag and running away to the castle.

“Did I do zomezing?” Gabby asked, both staring after Hermione.

Hermione half ran to the library, quickly finding herself going further and further into the stacks. Once she was sure nobody would find her, Hermione collapsed on the floor, trying to get her breath back.

Hermione pulled out  _ The Book of Veela _ , staring at it intently. “Just tell me something,” she whispered angrily at it. Unsurprisingly, the book did nothing, so Hermione stuffed it back in the bag.

Hermione’s thoughts were everywhere, from her reactions to Fleur,  _ Fleur’s _ face when Hermione recited facts. Down by the Lake, Fleur was so close, and yet Hermione didn’t do anything. Didn’t pull away.

She’s  _ French _ , Hermione though firmly, Fleur was probably going to kiss her cheeks and say goodbye. It’s not like Hermione would  _ want _ Fleur to kiss her, she’s attracted to boys. But there was a part of her brain that was fighting that fact.

Sighing, she pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, and her quil. “I’ll make a list,” Hermione mumbled quietly. “Of everyone I’m attracted to.”

Then, she just stared at the parchment. Eventually, her hand seemed to have a mind of it’s own, and started writing a ‘F’ on the page. Hermione caught herself, and lifted the quil away forcefully. Finally, she scraped the bit of parchment. 

Hermione looked around, staring at the books she found herself lost in. They were Muggle novels, although Hermione couldn’t see any titles from her position on the floor. She pulled the closest one off the shelf, and realised it was a romance book. About two women. Shrugging, she opened it to read, losing herself in the book instantly.

It was only when a bell echoed through the castle, did Hermione realise she’d been sat on the floor reading all afternoon. She had quickly finished the first novel, and was halfway through another. Blushing, she hastily put it back on the shelf, making her way down to the Great Hall.

The Hall was almost filled, so Hermione quickly squeezed next to Harry, spotting Fleur looking confident and aloof at the Ravenclaw table, in between Gabrielle and Amy.

“Where have you been all day?” Harry asked, turning to look at Hermione curiously.

“Never mind that,” Ron interrupted. “Those Beauxbaton girls are  _ something _ else, aren’t they?”

The Halloween feast seemed to last forever, everyone looking at the Goblet of Fire, placed in front of the top table. Hermione could feel Fleur’s gaze on her back every so often, but she was determined not to look at the other witch. Maribel caught Hermione’s eyes halfway through the feast, who gave the Gryffindor a confused look, flicking her eyes towards Fleur and Gabrielle, then back to Hermione. The witch in question just shrugged, turning back to Ron and Harry discussing who would be the Hogwarts champion.

At long last, the plates were wiped clean, and every conversation in the Hall lurched to a stop. Dumbledore stood up, beaming down once again, at everyone. Ros looked like it was Christmas, Maribel’s hand resting lightly on her arm. Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff were tense, looking as expectant as all the students. By contrast, Ludo Bagman looked just as excited as Ros, whereas Mr Crouch looked disinterested.

“Well,” Dumbledore started speaking, “it looks like the Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision. If your name is called, please head up to the front of the Hall, and walk along the staff table, going through the door on the end. You will receive further instructors once all three champions are announced.”

The next minute was spent in tense silence, all eyes focussed on the Goblet. Suddenly, sparks began to fly from the cup, the flames flickering to red. In the next moment, a parchment was shot out from the top, Dumbledore calmly reaching to collect it. 

“The champion for Durmstrang,” Dumbledore read in a strong, clear voice, “is  _ Viktor Krum _ !” Cheers echoed the Hall, as Krum stood up from the Slytherin table, making his way towards the door. Dumbledore shook his hand as he walked by.

The cheering stopped as Krum disappeared through the door, eyes watching the Goblet as it sparked again. Another parchment shot into the air, Dumbledore grabbing it easily. “The champion for Beauxbaton,” he read clearly, “is  _ Fleur Delacour _ !” The cheers started again, Hermione watching as Gabrielle kissed her cheek, before Fleur walked towards Dumbledore. Maribel smiled widely at Fleur as she passed.

“She’s a  _ veela _ ,” Ron hissed at Harry and Hermione, although they both ignored him. Hermione watched curiously as a few other Beauxbaton students started crying at not being chosen.

Finally, the noise stopped again, a third parchment shooting out of the Goblet. “The champion for Hogwarts is,” Dumbledore paused here, his smile widening, “ _ Cedric Diggory _ !” 

Nothing could beat the noise coming from the Hufflepuff table, Cedric having many fists beat his back in congratulations. Even after he disappeared from the Hall, the school was still cheering loudly.

Finally, Dumbledore managed to get everyone’s attention again, happily calling into the Hall. “Excellent! We have our three champions! I am sure we can count on  _ everyone _ to give your chosen champion your full support -” Dumbledore trailed off, his attention back on the Goblet, which was sparking again.

Another piece of parchment shot out, almost angrily. Dumbledore caught it curiously, frowning as he read the name. “Harry Potter.”

Suddenly, the Hall fell into whispered murmurs, Harry just sitting there dumbly. Even Ron looked at Harry in disbelief. “I didn’t put my name in,” Harry said weakly.

“Harry Potter,” Dumbledore called again blankly. “Harry, up here please.”

“I didn’t enter, you know that,” Harry said again, turning to Hermione pleadingly.

“Harry, just go, I’ll catch up with you afterwards,” Hermione mumbled, giving him a forced smile, and a slight shove.

Hermione watched sadly as Harry stumbled his way up the table, Ros was looking at him curiously, her eyes flicking to Hermione and back again.  _ So much for a normal year _ , Hermione thought darkly. Harry disappeared through the door, shoulders hunched over. Silently, Dumbledore disappeared through the door as well, closely followed by a smattering of others along the top table. Professor Flitwick got up, awkwardly dismissing the students.

“Did he tell you he entered?” Ron asked Hermione bitterly.

“What?” Hermione said, distracted. “Ronald you  _ can’t _ be serious? Why would Harry put his name in the Goblet?”

“Figures he wouldn’t even tell his best friend. Both of you keep your secrets.” Ron stormed off, leaving Hermione stunned on the staircase. Staring at Ron’s retreating form in disbelief, Hermione spun around, fighting her way through the crowd to wait in a room off the Entrance Hall.

Not long after the last stragglers disappeared to their common room, Hermione saw Krum and Karkaroff leave, the latter talking angrily in Bulgarian. Fleur came out next, Madame Maxime storming ahead. Fleur paused for a moment, eyes sweeping over Hermione’s hiding spot. Then came out Harry and Cedric. Hermione waited for Cedric to turn towards the Hufflepuff common room before she sprinted out, grabbing Harry’s elbow.

“Hey!” Harry jumped, turning to face the other Gryffindor, “Hermione, what are you doing?”

“Shush, I told you I’ll catch up with you afterwards, come through here.” Without waiting for a reply, Hermione pulled Harry through another door, into an empty classroom.

“What did they say?” Hermione asked, perching herself on top of a desk.

Harry sighed, sinking into a chair. “I have to compete. Binding magical contract. Nobody was very happy about it.”

“Well that’s ridiculous!” Hermione said loudly, her anger quite clear. “I mean, no offence Harry, but you’re too young! They put the age restrictions in place! What, are they hoping you’ll be killed by this!?”

Harry winced slightly, Hermione quickly realising what she said, and hugging Harry tightly. “Moody,” Harry replied. “Reckons someone did put my name in hoping I would die.”

“Oh Harry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said -”

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t know what to do, Hermione,” Harry cut her off weakly.

“Write to Sirius!” Hermione responded, quickly digging about in her page for parchment and a quill.

“Oh come off it, Hermione,” Harry retorted, making sure that the door was closed. “He came back to the country just because my scar hurt a little. If I tell him someone put my name  _ in _ the Goblet, he’d probably come bursting  _ into _ the castle!”

“He’ll find out eventually! The Tournament is  _ famous _ , you’re  _ famous _ . The  _ Daily Prophet  _ will be reporting on it, and if they don’t mention you once, I’ll eat my wand!” Hermione softened her voice, looking at Harry carefully. “He’d sooner hear it from you.”

“Fine,” Harry sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue further with Hermione. “I’ll write to him in the morning, I just want to go to bed now.”

Hermione nodded, grabbing Harry to stop him from leaving. “Wait - the Gryffindors. They’re having a party.”

Harry groaned, “I didn’t put my name in the Goblet!”

“ _ I _ know that!” Hermione replied, pulling Harry’s invisibility cloak out of her bag. “Which is why I summoned this whilst I was waiting. Figured you could sneak upstairs. They won’t question me.”

“Hermione, I think I could kiss you, you’re a genius!” Harry pulled Hermione into a hug excitedly. Hermione’s blush went unnoticed, adding it to the mental list of things she needed to research.

The two hurried back to the Gryffindor tower, Harry throwing the cloak on once they were round the corner from the Fat Lady. Hermione managed to push a way through the crowds, feeling Harry holding on to the back of her robes. Harry ruffled Hermione’s hair as they made it to the stairwell, and parted ways.

Hermione woke up early the next morning, quickly getting ready to make her way down for breakfast. She sat down next to Ron wearily.

“Morning, Ron,” Hermione offered cautiously.

“Did you see Harry last night?” Ron asked, but didn’t wait for her reply. “He reckons he didn’t put his name in, but who wouldn’t want the fame?”

“Harry’s already famous! And what fame comes with the Tournament?” Hermione asked angrily. “Name one previous winner - I’ll wait.”

Ron just stared at Hermione like she’d grown an extra head. Huffing, she stood up, piling toast onto a napkin, and stormed out of the Hall.

As she made it to the Fat Lady, it swung open, revealing Harry, looking a little worse for wear.

“Morning, Harry,” Hermione said cheerfully, holding up the napkin filled with toast. “I’ve brought you breakfast, should we go to the Owlery?”

“Good idea,” Harry replied, gratefully taking one of the pieces of toast.

Once they were in the Owlery, Harry turned to Hermione. “Have you seen Ron this morning?”

Hermione hesitated, stroking Hedwig’s fur. “Yeah, he was at breakfast.”

“Does he still think he put my own name in?”

“I think,” Hermione paused, carefully considering her next few words. “I think... He’s jealous.”

“Jealous?” Harry repeated dumbly. “Jealous of what? Making a prat of himself in front of the whole school?

Hermione waited patiently for Harry to finish his rant. “Look, it’s always you that gets the attention, and he’s shunted off to the side. It’s not your fault! I know you don’t ask for it, but Ron’s got all those brothers at home to compete with, and even Ginny is becoming a good flier. I reckon it’s just one time too many for him.”

“Great.” Harry said shortly. “Well you go tell him I’ll happily swap any time, he’s welcome to it!”

“I’m not an  _ owl _ Harry, you tell him yourself,” Hermione said sharply.

Harry pulled out his letter to Sirius. “I’m not running around telling him to  _ grow up _ . Maybe he’ll believe me when I break my neck or -”

“That’s not funny at all,” Hermione interrupted, looking very nervous. Harry sighed, looking apologetically at Hermione.

He turned to attach the letter to one of the school owls. Hedwig hooted loudly in disagreement, nipping at Harry’s fingers and flying off to the rafters.

The next few days passed quickly. It seemed that everyone, beside the majority of Gryffindor, believed Harry put his own name in. Hermione had tried to keep his attention occupied, but there was only so much she could do when faced with the Slytherin’s outside potions, all showing off their new badges.

Malfoy, of course, led them, grinning happily. He and Harry, almost at the same time, pulled their wands on each other, each shouting a different spell. They rebounded, Harry’s spell exploding against the wall, but Malfoy’s spell hit Hermione with an  _ oomf _ .

Before anyone could react, Hermione covered her mouth, running away to the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey sat her down, revealing her two front teeth stretching down to her waist by now.

“Okay, Miss Granger,” Madame Pomfrey said, handing the young witch a mirror. “I’ll shrink them, just tell me when to stop.”

Hermione waited until they were back to their normal size. Then waited a little longer before telling Pomfrey to stop.

“Miss Granger, there isn’t long left in the lesson, perhaps it would be better for you to skip the remainder.” Pomfrey advised, before shooing the girl off the bed and out the door.

“‘Mione!” Maribel called, catching Hermione just as she left the Hospital Wing. “Is everything okay? Why were you in there?”

“Maribel,” Hermione said, smiling at the older witch who was studying her up and down, looking for any injuries. “I’m fine, really, just a stray spell.”

Maribel didn’t look happy, but nodded and draped her arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “Ros is busy with something to do with the champions. I am apparently not allowed to let my niece Gabby play with Peeves, and all my children are in class.” Maribel moaned, smiling widely as she led Hermione into an empty classroom.

“Are you and Ros staying here?” Hermione asked, both of them sitting next to each other.

“More or less,” Maribel shrugged. “In between the tasks less so. But there’s only so much I can stand of playing nice with Mr Crouch and Ludo that I can stand.”

“That bad, huh?”

“More Mr Crouch, Ludo just likes talking Quidditch mostly. Barty Crouch has a habit of sucking the fun out of a room, so I’m avoiding him.”

Hermione nodded, wondering if she should bring up Fleur. However, Maribel quickly spoke again.

“I saw you showing Fleur the castle the other day,” Maribel said, letting the statement linger.

Hermione blushed. “I was showing her the castle. She’s very nice.”

“I see,” came the drawled reply. “Did you read the book I gave you?”

Hermione quickly pulled it out of her bag. “Yes, here, you can have it back. Thank you.”

“Fleur thinks you’re avoiding her ‘Mione.” Maribel said softly, taking  _ The Book of Veela _ back.

“I didn’t mean to, it’s just,” Hermione sighed. “With everything with Harry, he’s getting in the neck from everyone.”

Maribel stared at the younger girl hard. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” She prompted softly.

Hermione blushed again, her newly shortened teeth tugging painfully at her bottom lip. “She’s very pretty. But I’m such a mess around her.”

Maribel hummed. “It’s not her Thrall, if you’re thinking about that, ‘Mione.”

“How can you be sure, Maribel?” Hermione asked quietly. Just as Maribel opened her mouth to respond, the bell went for dinner.

“I’ll let you figure that one out. Now, come, it’s time for dinner!” Maribel hopped off her chair, holding her hand out to Hermione.

Hermione stared at it, before shaking her head. “I’ll eat in a little, I need to go to the library first, I think.”

Maribel nodded, smiling brightly at Hermione. “Of course, please make sure you eat though.”

Hermione hugged Maribel tightly, and then started off in the direction of the library.


	13. The First Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while for this chapter! I kept rewriting some of the scenes, and ended up also writing half of the next chapter before I realised! Enjoy!

Hermione found herself back in the library, surrounded by the Muggle romance novels again. She quickly grabbed one off the shelf, and made her way over to her favourite reading nook.

Hermione was only a few chapters in when she noticed the small blonde figure of Gabrielle sitting in front of her. Smiling, the Gryffindor put her book in the bag, looking at Gabrielle curiously.

“My zeezter talks about you all ze time.” Gabby said simply, looking around everywhere.

“Does she?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“ _ Oui _ , eets very…  _ ennuyeux _ ,” Gabby settled on looking at Hermione, who was blushing slightly.

“You can just speak French with me Gabby,” Hermione offered. She frowned a little when Gabby shook her head rapidly.

“ _ Non _ ,  _ maman _ zaid zat if I wanted to come, I ‘ave to talk Eenglish.”

The two girls stared at each other for a moment, Hermione finding it quite amusing that Gabby seemed to be sizing her up.

“ _ Tante  _ Mari ‘as been ‘elping Fleur wiz zomezing alzo.” Gabby finally spoke again. “But zey won’t tell me.”

Hermione hummed, clearly the youngest Delacour had something else on her mind. Gabby continued talking again.

“And all ze boys are looking at Fleur. Zey keep falling around ‘er.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, as a paragraph from  _ The Book of Veela  _ swirled around in her head. 

‘ _ A Part-Veela’s Thrall is highly uncontrollable. It will affect all those nearby to the Veela, who are attracted to females. The only exceptions to their Thrall are their True Mate, and their family. Anybody else caught in her Thrall will experience high levels of attraction towards the Veela. _ ’ 

Hermione was dragged out of her thoughts by Gabrielle half shouting at her. “Mi! Mi! Are you even lizening?” She asked darkly.

“No, Gabby, I’m sorry,” Hermione apologised quickly. “Can you repeat that please?”

Gabrielle huffed, but widened her eyes at something behind Hermione. Hermione frowned, and turned her head, spotting Fleur standing at the end of one of the stacks. Fleur’s face flushed at being spotted, and she quickly walked over to them.

“Gabby, Madame Maxime wants to zee you.” Fleur said sharply. Gabby moaned, but leant forward to kiss both of Hermione’s cheeks loudly. The young girl then smirked at Fleur, before rushing out of the library.

Fleur glared at her sister’s retreating form, before sitting down. Hermione smiled warmly at the other witch. “ _ Salut _ , ‘Ermione,” Fleur mumbled.

“Hi Fleur,” Hermione replied softly, cheeks blushing at the memory of how close they were at the Lake.

“May I ask zomezing?” Fleur questioned, looking nervously at the Gryffindor. When Hermione nodded, she continued. “Did ‘Arry put ‘is name in ze Goblet?”

Hermione glared at Fleur before answering. “No, of course he didn’t!” She snapped, making to stand up from the table. Fleur quickly grabbed her hand, both blushing at the contact.

“Zorry, I ‘ad to ask,” Fleur didn’t release Hermione’s hand as she sat back down. “Eet es ztupid zey are making ‘im compete. I did not mean to offend you.”

“That’s okay, it’s just frustrating that everyone is so against him! Even the Slytherin’s have made these  _ stupid _ badges, and he’s not concentrating, and it’s just so  _ ridiculous _ . The Hufflepuffs hate us, and all I can think about is what Harry said about somebody  _ wanting _ him to die in the Tournament!”

Hermione’s train of thought, and increasing louder rant, screeched to a stop when she felt Fleur’s lips press softly to the back of her fists. Hermione’s whole face flushed red, rivalling Ron’s hair. Fleur leaned back, still holding onto Hermione’s hands, with a small smile and a pink tinge to her face.

“You are very,” Fleur paused, searching for the right word. “Very  _ beautiful _ when you are angry, ‘Ermione.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly, her blush, if possible, grew.

“Do not zank me for ze truz,  _ ma chérie _ .” Fleur released Hermione’s hands, straightening up slightly. “What did my zeezter want?”

Hermione giggled slightly. “She said it’s annoying how you keep talking about me?”

Fleur’s eyes widened, snapping out a rapid sentence in French furiously. Hermione managed to translate  _ Brat _ ,  _ Murder _ , and  _ Painful _ before full on laughing at the French witch’s reaction.

Fleur’s mouth snapped shut, half glaring, half embarrassed. “I am zorry for ‘er. Zee doez not know when to keep quiet.”

“It’s okay, really, I’ll assume it’s all good anyway” Hermione replied, managing to stop her laughter, but missing the blush that spread over Fleur’s face. “It’s a bit weird, to be honest. I never grew up with any siblings, and now I’ve got 10 older ones. It’s nice seeing how you two interact.”

Fleur’s eyes cast downwards at that. “ _ Oui _ , Maribel and Ros, zey adopted you,  _ non _ ?”

“Yeah, they did. Paper’s got finalised a few weeks into term.” Hermione smiled wistfully at the memory.

Fleur hummed, reaching out to gently cradle one of Hermione’s hands. “I will tell ze ozzer Beauxbatons zundents to leave ‘Arry alone.” Fleur stood up, kissing both of Hermione’s cheeks. “For you.” Fleur added as she turned to leave.

Over the next two weeks, Hermione found herself amusing Gabrielle over lunch and dinner. The youngest Delacour waited outside Hermione’s classrooms for her, grabbing her hand impatiently. Once they’ve eaten, Fleur would come up to the pair with increasingly ridiculous errands for the young girl to run, leaving her with Hermione for the rest of their break.

After lunch, Fleur would take Hermione to her next lesson. After dinner, Fleur would leave when Harry or someone else from Gryffindor came towards them. It was a nice little routine that had led to countless teasing from Katie whenever Fleur would leave Hermione with the older girl.

Hermione raised an eye at the Ravenclaw in front of her. “Why does everyone insist on meeting me in the library?”

Amy laughed, dumping her books on the table. “So this is where you and Fleur have been sneaking off to, hey?”

Hermione blushed, shaking her head. “No, but it’s often where either her or Gabby  _ find _ me.”

Both girls laughed, Amy pulling out a sheet of homework. “Listen, I’ve told the others to lay off Potter, I’m hoping Eve will do the same, but she’s close to Diggory.”

Hermione nodded sadly. “Thank you. Hopefully it’ll calm down after the First Task. It’s only a few more days.”

“Does anyone know what they’re facing yet?”

Hermione shrugged, biting her lip. “It’s awful really, not telling the champions what they’re up against. Although I’ve been researching previous Tournaments, and they all seem to start with some sort of magical creature, so…”

Amy nodded, flicking open one of her books. “Did you read that Skeeter article about the Weighing of the Wands?” Amy asked evenly, looking back at Hermione.

“About how ‘Harry has found love’ in my arms,” Hermione snorted. “Yeah I read it. It’s a load of rubbish anyway, so whenever the Slytherins quote it, it’s easy enough to ignore.”

“I suppose,” Amy replied distractedly. “Maybe  _ we _ should start hexing Malfoy and Parkinson. Weasley learnt his lesson, didn’t he?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the older girl, who had abandoned any pretense of working. “Is that a wise thing to do?”

“Perhaps not,” Amy grinned. “But it would be hilarious. We could change his hair to green!”

Both girls laughed at this, thankfully far back enough in the library that Madam Pince wouldn’t hear. Amy changed the topic once again. “So you and Fleur, huh?”

Hermione blushed, shaking her head. “She’s really friendly, Amy.”

“Course she is,” Amy drawled. “So super friendly that she spends a lot of time with you.  _ Only _ you.”

“There’s nothing there.” Hermione said firmly.

“Do you want there to be?” Amy’s question threw Hermione, and she sat there in silence, gaping.

Luckily, Hermione was saved from answering by Harry rushing into the library. He dragged Hermione away saying something about a summoning charm. Amy grinned, waving goodbye.

“So let me get this straight,” Hermione said, staring at Harry once they were back in the common room. “The First Task - which is in two days - is  _ dragons _ . And you think that you can  _ fly _ away from it on your broom? That’s your plan?”

Harry nodded. “So can you help me?”

They stayed in the common room until the early hours of the morning. Harry wanted to keep practising, but Hermione insisted they go to sleep.

Hermione felt incredibly guilty the next day, when she had to tell Gabrielle to sit with someone else for lunch, but Harry needed to practise in peace. She also missed having Fleur walk her to lessons, as her  _ friend _ .

By that evening, however, Harry seemed to finally get the hang of summoning charms. Instead, he was now very aware of the fact he’d have to do it whilst facing a  _ dragon _ . Hermione quickly sent him to bed, considering nothing more would be done that night.

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione said, exhausted. “You need to eat  _ something _ .” Without waiting for an answer, she started piling food on his plate.

Satisfied that Harry had begun eating some form of breakfast, Hermione looked around the Great Hall nervously. She spotted Amy talking to Eve over on the Hufflepuff table, and Katie further down the table, who winked at Hermione. The young Gryffindor couldn’t help but feel disappointed when she couldn’t see Fleur. She had been hoping to explain why she hasn’t been able to spend time with her.

Hermione’s morning lessons passed by in a blur, for once, she was hardly focusing. All too soon, the bell rang for lunch. Hermione packed up her books slowly, being the last one to leave the classroom.

“Mi.” Gabrielle called angrily. “You ‘ave been ignoring me.”

Hermione sighed, looking at Gabrielle sadly. “I haven’t meant to, Gabby. I needed to help Harry with the Task. I’m sorry.”

“I ‘ave mized you,” the younger girl said sadly. Hermione quickly pulled her into a hug, sinking to her knees to be eye level. 

“I’m sorry, Gabby. I’ve missed you too,” Hermione murmured into her hair. Hermione smiled as the younger girl grabbed her hand, and began taking them to the Great Hall for lunch.

As they walked in, Hermione spotted Harry further down the table, surrounded by other Gryffindors, his face pale and clammy. Cedric looked nervous, surrounded by Hufflepuffs. Krum was talking quietly with Karkaroff. And Fleur. Hermione stared at Fleur as Gabrielle sat down with her on the very end of the Gryffindor table. Fleur was in the middle of the Beauxbaton students, her head held high. Hermione gave her a small smile when they locked eyes, but Fleur only nodded in response.

“Who are you looking at?” Gabrielle asked curiously, trying to follow Hermione’s eyeline.

“Why aren’t you with your sister?” Hermione responded, ignoring the girl’s question.

Gabrielle’s cheeks flushed faintly. “I waz waiting for you. And Fleur es buzy with ‘er friends.”

All too soon, lunch finished, the champions already having been escorted out of the Great Hall. Gabrielle stayed by Hermione’s side, eventually climbing onto her back when the crowd made its way down to the pitch. They followed the crowd into the stands, finally finding a seat next to Katie.

“Do you want to go sit with the Beauxbaton lot, Gabby?” Hermione asked softly, as Katie helped the young girl climb down from her back.

Gabrielle just shook her head violently, clinging onto both Hermione’s and Katie’s hands.

“Where’s the others?” Hermione asked Katie, quickly shedding her outer robe to wrap around Gabrielle.

“Fred and George are running the betting pool, and Angelina went along to make sure they didn’t run into any trouble.” Katie looked over the enclosure, spotting the gate on the other side.

Suddenly, there was a roar from the gated area, and a flume of fire reaching the sky.

“‘Mione,” Katie said slowly. “Please tell me they are not facing dragons in this task?”

Hermione nodded her head slowly, not trusting herself to speak. It was one thing practising, and imagining the dragons. It was an entirely different thing actually having them on the other side of the gate.

Gabrielle whimpered between the two. Hermione quickly pulled her in for a hug, trying desperately to reassure both Gabrielle and herself. 

Dumbledore came out and started speaking to the crowd, but Hermione wasn’t paying attention. She instead, was focusing on the champions tent, waiting for them to appear.

Hermione could hear everyone around her reacting to Cedric’s performance, could feel how painfully Gabrielle was clutching at her hand. But it all seemed like she was underwater, Hermione’s attention was still focused on the champions tent, waiting for Harry. Waiting for  _ Fleur _ . 

A cheer rose up from the crowd, obviously Cedric had retrieved his egg. Still, Hermione’s gaze did not wander from the tent. She knew that Katie was looking at her in concern, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet her eyes.

“They’ll be fine, ‘Mione.” Katie said softly, reaching over Gabrielle to place a hand on her shoulder. Hermione nodded, biting her lip.

The cheers started again as Krum appeared, taking longer than Cedric to get his egg. Gabrielle had screamed a few points, clinging onto Hermione’s arm.

Once Krum disappeared, the crowd fell silent. Hermione felt that she would be sick at any moment. Then, Ludo Bagman announced Harry. And Hermione finally teared her gaze away from the tent. 

Harry edged into the enclosure, wand held out in front of him. The Hungarian Horntail thrashed about, following Harry’s movements. Then, Harry shouted, wand pointing up at the sky. “ _ Accio  _ Firebolt!”

The crowd fell quiet, holding their breath. Everyone, including Harry, was waiting for  _ something _ to happen. 

Hermione chanced a glance at the judges table. Karkaroff and Maxime looked almost happy, that nothing was happening. Crouch looked disinterested as normal, the opposite to Bagman looking at the sky expectantly. Dumbledore was watching Harry, his fingers clasped together under his chin. Ros seemed incredibly nervous, and Hermione could see the very tip of her wand poking out of her sleeve, as she studied the dragon’s movements.

Suddenly,  _ something _ did happen. The Horntail thrashed about again, shooting a ball of fire at Harry. He managed to duck and roll with time to spare, hiding behind a boulder. Hermione was worried that the spell wasn’t working, that there wasn’t enough power in it to summon the broom.

Harry leapt up from his hiding spot, dodging the dragon’s tail. Hermione screamed, as Harry jumped off another rock. The crowd cheered as Harry landed on his broom. There was a part of Hermione’s brain that recalled her Defence lesson on dragons. That Horntail’s were exceptionally good fliers. And when antagonised, they also have immeasurable strength.

Hermione screamed again, along with the crowd, as the Horntail broke free from it’s chain. The dragon followed Harry, fire bursting from its mouth. 

Quickly, the dragon chased Harry out of the arena, both spiralling upwards. The crowd were screaming still, as Harry suddenly dived towards the ground.

Hermione screamed as Harry approached the ground, pulling out of the dive just in time to snatch the Golden Egg. The cannon sounded as the Horntail crashed into the ground.

As the keepers filed into the enclosure, Harry limped off towards the medical tent. Hermione wanted to follow, but something held her in place, eyes glued back to the entrance of the tent. Gabrielle was gripping tightly on Hermione’s hand.

“‘Mione, breathe,” Katie said sharply, suddenly appearing kneeling in front of the other Gryffindor. “Harry’s okay, Fleur  _ will _ be okay.”

Hermione nodded slowly, focusing on Katie crouched in front. Gabrielle was looking curiously at her, although Hermione could make out her face was incredibly pale. 

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but her words were drowned out by Ludo Bagman announcing the last champion to face her dragon. Fleur. As Katie sat back down, the three of them joined in the cheers.

Fleur’s eyes took in her surroundings, pausing enough to give a small smile to Gabrielle, Hermione, and Katie, all sitting together. Hermione watched nervously, the crowd once again stilling to see how the French witch would deal with the dragon.

Hermione recognised the dragon as a Welsh Green, just as it launched forward towards Fleur. Gabrielle screamed, Fleur disappearing behind a wall of fire. Suddenly, the fire ceased, and Fleur appeared, weaving in between the outcroppings. 

Fleur managed to evade her dragon for long enough to stand behind it, wand aimed for a small patch at the back of its head. The stands erupted in cheers as Fleur cast a spell, hitting the dragon, who swayed uneasy on the spot. Fleur’s dragon fell to the ground, seeming to be asleep, the crowd silent again.

The Beauxbaton champion edged closer to the dragon, wand held aloft in front of her. Keeping one eye on the dragon, she used her free hand to scope up the Golden Egg. As soon as it was in her hands, the stands erupted back into cheers, a thunderous applause. Hermione, Katie, and Gabrielle all joined in, the latter climbing onto Hermione to see above the students in front of them.

“Fleur - watch out!” Hermione’s scream went unnoticed in the din of the crowd. Fleur turned half a second too late, the sleeping dragon had snored, sending out a small spit of fire. Cursing, Fleur tried to jump out of the way, but the fire caught her sleeve as she went. The French champion put it out quickly, landing hard on her back. 

Wincing, Fleur headed over to the medical tent, the Egg tucked safely into the crook of her elbow, her burnt arm tight to her chest.

“Mi, Mi,” Gabrielle said urgently, tugging on the girl’s sleeve. “I need to see ‘er,  _ s’il vous plait _ .”

“I’ll go back to the dorms, take your time,” Katie called, already leaving in the direction of the other Gryffindors.

Hermione allowed the younger girl to pull them through the crowds, towards the medical tent. She knew that Krum and Diggory had already left. The latter was on the shoulders of fellow Hufflepuffs, whereas Krum was led away by Karkaroff.

Hermione lifted one of the flaps to allow Gabrielle to enter, who immediately ran over to Fleur. The French witch was drinking a potion Madam Pomfrey had handed her, with Maribel speaking rapidly in French to her. Hermione turned her attention to Harry, who had left his Firebolt on the ground next to his cot. 

Quickly, the bushy haired girl walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. “Oh Harry! That was fantastic!”

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry blushed, shuffling over to make room for Hermione to perch on the cot. “Did you watch Fleur?”

“Ye-yeah. That’s why I didn’t come straight over, I’m sorry.”

Harry gave her a bashful grin, shaking his head. “I saw how Gabrielle was clutching to you, I doubt she would have even let you go!”

They both laughed, Hermione rubbing her hand that Gabrielle had been clinging onto.

“Right, Mr Potter, you’re free to go,” Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over to the pair. “Take it easy, I don’t want you to end up here at the end of the year. Again.”

As the two went to leave, Hermione felt a hand grab her elbow. 

“Mr Potter,” Maribel said, looking at Harry gently. “If you wouldn’t mind finding my wife, she has those photos for you. I just need to borrow Hermione for a minute.”

“Okay, Hermione I’ll catch up with you later?” Harry stammered, already turning to try and find Ros. 

As Hermione nodded, Maribel spoke again. “Well done today, Mr Potter. That was some amazing flying.”

Harry nodded, quickly running from the tent as he spotted Ros. Hermione followed Maribel further back into the tent, letting the older witch sit them down on an unused cot.

“That Daily Prophet article,” Maribel started, turning to face Hermione.

“If this is about what that Skeeter wrote about me,” Hermione interrupted. “I don’t care. So long as they don’t drag anyone  _ else _ through the mud.”

“That’s honourable, ‘Mione,” Maribel paused, thinking of a delicate way to have this conversation. “However, once Skeeter gets her sights on someone, she won’t let them go. Ros and I are afraid she’ll start focusing on you, as you’re friends with Harry.”

Hermione shrugged, picking at the blanket underneath them. “I’ve probably heard worse. I don’t care what she says about me, Maribel.”

The older witch hummed, pulling Hermione into a sideways hug. “Well, even if you think that, Ros and I have far too much money for our own good. I wouldn’t put it past her to just  _ buy _ that newspaper.”

Hermione pulled away, shaking her head rapidly. “No, no that’s too much, you’ve both already done  _ so  _ much for me.”

“You’re _our_ _daughter_ , ‘Mione,” Maribel said softly. “Even if it’s only been made official the other month. You’ve been our daughter since you walked through our doors. And we protect our own.”

Hermione let Maribel wipe the tears that had fallen, pulling her into a bruising hug. After a moment, Maribel held Hermione at arms length, a rather toothy grin in place. “Perhaps you should go help Fleur get better, no? I’m sure she’d love to have you look after her!”

Hermione just blushed furiously, playfully pushing the older witch as Maribel broke out in laughter.


	14. Dance Practise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More useless gayness in this chapter! Enjoy!

In the week following the First Task, life seemed to have returned to normal. Ron had apologised to Harry, although Hermione was still wary of him. Harry had shown Hermione the few pictures Ros had found of his parents - one of which included a baby Harry, Sirius, and Lupin. He also shyly admitted to keeping them in his robes always, and asked if Hermione could spell them to not get stained or damaged.

Fleur and Gabrielle seemed to have resumed their routine of picking Hermione up and dropping her off. Fleur’s bandages came off early in the week, and Hermione spent twenty minutes making sure that her arm was fully healed. Fleur seemed to increase her efforts to compliment Hermione at every turn.

It was the Friday following the task that found Hermione sitting against a tree by the Black Lake, with Fleur. 

Hermione had let the older girl guide her head so that it was in Fleur’s lap, her fingers deftly moving through her bushy hair. The Gryffindor blushed as she remembered the last time the pair were at the Lake.

“W’at are you bluzing at?” Fleur asked curiously, fingers stilling in her hair.

“Nothing in particular,” Hermione hummed back, blushing further at being caught.

“Well, you are very  _ belle _ w’en you bluz, ‘Ermione,” Fleur said quietly, her own blush appearing.

Hermione gaped at the older girl, her face now resembling more of a tomato than an actual face. Hermione managed to find her voice, whispering to the older girl. “Whatever beauty I am, is nothing compared to you, Fleur.” Hermione was surprised where this confidence came from, but was looking up at Fleur determinedly.

They both sat there blushing for a minute, just looking at each other. They were jolted from their staring by the bell signaling 10 minutes before the next lesson. Fleur helped Hermione stand up, her blush now fading slightly.

“I zall see you later?” Fleur asked softly. When Hermione nodded, Fleur’s face broke into a huge smile, and leant forward to kiss Hermione’s cheeks. 

“Later, zen, ‘Ermione,” Fleur called, walking towards a group of Beauxbaton students. Hermione just stood there for another minute, Fleur had kissed the very corners of her mouth, whether accidental or not, Hermione didn’t know.

Hermione made it just on time to her Arithmancy lesson, Professor Vector gave her a curious glance, but thankfully made no comment.

It was the Monday morning following that Hermione saw the notice about the Yule Ball. Gabrielle had been sad at lunch that she couldn’t go, and Fleur was having dance practise with the rest of the Beauxbatons, so Hermione didn’t see her. 

That afternoon, all of the fourth year Gryffindors and above were in an old Transfiguration classroom, watching Filch put a Gramophone on a stool in the middle. Katie had immediately pulled Hermione towards her, on a back wall. Seconds later, Fred, George, and Angelina had all appeared. Harry and Ron were sitting on the bench in front of them, the latter looking incredibly nervous.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, gaining everyone’s attention easily. “The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament,” she began. “Since its inception. It will begin at 8pm sharp on Christmas Day night. We, and our guests, will gather in the Great Hall for a night of  _ well-mannered _ frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect  _ each _ and  _ every one _ of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean that literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost… a dance.”

There was an outbreak of murmurs at this, Angelina and Katie either side of Hermione practically  _ squealed _ at the news. McGonagall quickly got everyone’s attention again, the room falling back into silence.

“The House of Godric Gryffindor has  _ commanded _ the respect of the Wizarding World for almost ten centeries. I will  _ not _ have you in the course of a single evening bescherming that name by acting like a bambling, bumbling, bunch of baboons.”

“Oi, try saying that five times faster,” George whispered to Fred. Ron had made the mistake of turning to look at the twins, which McGonagall was quick to notice.

“Mr Weasley,” she said, eyeing Ron. “Could you join me?” 

Ron’s face turned purple, as the room broke out in little giggles. He edged closer to the professor, who quickly grabbed him and pulled him to the centre. 

“Now,” She continued. “If you just grab my waist, Mr Weasley.”

“Your  _ what _ ?”

“My  _ waist _ , Mr Weasley.” McGonagall sounded exasperated with him, but Hermione swore for a minute, she had a smile on her face.

McGonagall led the pair in a waltz, before instructing everyone else to partner up and join in. Hermione quickly grabbed Neville as her partner, seeing as he had danced before. They enjoyed spinning around the others, Neville successfully lifting her twice. It seemed that, despite his natural awkwardness, he shone whilst spinning around a hall.

All too soon, McGonagall called the end of the lesson, the bell ringing to remind everyone of dinner. Before they were allowed to leave, however, she had one more thing to say.

“It is tradition for everyone to have dates, with the champions  _ starting _ the Yule Ball. After they open, it will be expected for everyone else to join the dance. I do not expect any of you to disappoint me. That will be all.”

Harry’s face had paled at that. He had constantly stepped on his partners feet, to the point where he was swapped several times. “How am I meant to get a date?” He hissed to Ron, Hermione dragging behind them. 

“Who are you meant to take?” Ron said, suddenly looking around at all the girls in the corridor. Hermione just blocked out conversation, instead focussing on getting to the Hall, before heading to the library.

“Hermione!” Ros called, catching the trio as they walked into the Great Hall. “A word, please?”

Without waiting for an answer, Ros strolled out of the doors, and onto the grounds. Hermione followed, telling the others to eat without her. “Everything okay, Ros?” Hermione asked when they sat on the bench.

Ros grinned at her, pulling Hermione in for a sideways hug. “Does something have to be the matter?”

“Well, no, of course not,” Hermione replied, leaning into her touch.

“I was just wondering who’s taken your fancy here?” Ros teased, smirking.

Hermione blushed, looking away. “I’m not sure what you mean?” She eventually replied evenly.

“Oh come on, ‘Mione!” Ros laughed, giving her a squeeze. “Who’s arm do you see yourself on for the Yule Ball? What about young Mr Potter?”

The Gryffindor’s eyes widened, shaking her head furiously. “No, Harry’s like a brother to me!”

Ros held her hands up, before resting one over Hermione’s shoulders. “Fine, fine!”

They sat in silence for a moment, before Ros spoke up again, a teasing smirk in place. “ _ Perhaps _ , it’s not a wizard that’s caught your eye?” Hermione blushed deeply. “Just maybe, it’s a certain French witch that has caught your eye, huh?”

“Fleur’s a  _ friend _ . There’s  _ nothing _ there.” Hermione said. It sounded weak even to her own ears.

“Nothing there  _ yet _ ,” Ros replied casually. “However, I would like to make a point that she spends the majority of her free time with you. And was also very upset that she couldn’t spend time with you right before the task.”

“So was Gabby,” Hermione said shortly.

“Very true,” Ros tried to soften her tone. She knew she didn’t have the same tact as Maribel in these situations.

“I’m just,” Hermione sighed, closing her eyes. She leant further into the other witch. “I don’t know, Ros. What would she even see in me?”

“Hermione,” Ros said sharply, turning to make the younger girl face her. “You are an incredibly bright witch. Merlin, I wouldn’t even be surprised if I was told you were the heir of Ravenclaw, rather than me! On top of all that intelligence, you are absolutely drop-dead  _ gorgeous _ . Anyone who  _ can’t _ see that is an idiot.”

Hermione blushed, but before she could reply, the Gryffindor spotted Fleur looking nervously at the two of them.

“Ah, Fleur!” Ros called, waving the witch over. “Come, I was just about to leave.”

“I do not want to intrude,” Fleur hesitated, standing before the pair.

“Nonsense,” Ros waved her hand. “I was just asking Hermione about potential Yule Ball dates - have you had anybody ask you yet?”

Fleur just sighed slightly. “ _ Oui _ , but I turned zem down. Zey were affected by ze Zrall. And zey were  _ drooling _ .”

“You’ll find some _ one _ , Fleur,” Ros said honestly. “I am  _ absolutely positive _ you’ll find someone. Now, I need to find my wife, so I’ll see you both later.”

With that, Ros stood up, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s forehead, and Fleur’s cheeks, before wandering back into the castle.

“Hello Fleur,” Hermione said softly, not quite meeting her eyes.

“ _ Bonjour _ , ‘Ermione,” Fleur replied. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Yes, yes that’d be lovely,” Hermione quickly picked back up her bag, stumbling after the other witch. 

They walked the familiar path down to the Lake, Hermione telling Fleur about the Gryffindor’s dancing lessons. “And then Ron dropped Lavender  _ twice _ !”

Both girl’s laughed, Fleur’s earlier nervousness seemed to have disappeared. They settled down by the tree, sitting close together, quite content to watch the Giant Squid float lazily on the surface.

Hermione was biting at her lip, lost in her thoughts. Katie had been teasing her relentlessly whenever she saw Hermione with Fleur. Amy’s conversation in the library. Maribel’s not so subtle push after the First Task. She had taken Gabrielle away so the two girls could have a private moment, Hermione almost in tears at the fact Fleur was hurt. Even Ros’s not so subtle comments just then. Gabrielle’s comments from the other day.

As suddenly as all these thoughts started, pages from  _ The Book of Veela _ swirled around in her head. Hermione tried with all her might to slow down the spinning, to make sense of what she was picturing. However, they remained just out of her reach, words floating around in her brain.

“ _ Mon dieu _ , ‘Ermione, stop,” Fleur’s voice pulled Hermione out of her thoughts. She gasped at how close the French witch was to her, a thumb resting on her bottom lip. Fleur’s face flushed slightly, but she didn’t remove her thumb. “You are bleeding, I zink you bit your lip.”

Hermione registered the coppery taste in her mouth, pulling away from Fleur’s hand to wipe at the cut. Fleur let her hand drop to hold onto the Gryffindor’s spare hand.

“Thank you,” Hermione finally said, once she was happy all the blood had gone.

“W’at ‘ad you so lost?” Fleur asked, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on the girl’s hand.

Hermione gave a shaky laugh, running her free hand through her hair. “A lot of different things, really. A lot of things I just don’t understand.”

“Anyzing I can ‘elp wiz?”

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry.” She wasn’t feeling much like a Gryffindor at the minute.

“Per’aps I could distract you zen?” Fleur looked nervous again, seeming to switch her stare between the Giant Squid, and Hermione.

“I’d love that, Fleur,” Hermione replied honestly.

Fleur nodded, seeming to try and steel herself for something. Hermione sat there quietly, watching Fleur have an internal battle. Finally, the French witch turned to look at Hermione seriously.

“‘Ermione,” she began, a pink tinge on her cheeks. “Zat article, after ze Task -”

“Harry and I  _ aren’t _ dating,” Hermione interrupted softly. “Skeeter’s just trying to pull stories out of the air.” 

Fleur’s face seemed to brighten, she seemed to gain a bit of confidence. Hermione sat there silently again, as the witch started speaking.

“I ‘ad to ask,  _ désolé _ ,” Fleur murmured, focusing on Hermione’s hands. “Because if you  _ were _ , I could not ask zis.”

Hermione went to speak, but Fleur gripped her hands tighter, shaking her head. “Would you do me ze ‘onour of going to ze Yule Ball wiz me, ‘Ermione?”

The Gryffindor gaped at the older girl, in shock. Her brain, whilst normally firing away, had stopped completely, frozen in place. Fleur’s face flushed red, going to stand up. Fleur moving away woke Hermione up from her trance, and she quickly grabbed the champion to stop her from moving.

“No -  _ wait _ \- Fleur,” Hermione started, standing up to be face to face with her. “Wait, please, why me?” Her voice had quietened off by the end.

“Because you are beautiful, ‘Ermione,” Fleur replied softly, reaching a hand up to cup her face. “And you are brave, loyal, and intelligent. And you would look perfect on my arm,  _ non _ ? Zere es lots of reazons  _ why _ ,  _ ma chéri _ e. If you want, I ‘ave a list?”

Fleur giggled slightly, although Hermione was still open mouthed, face flushing hotly. “Are you  _ flirting _ with me?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Fleur looked a bit annoyed at that, frowning at the younger girl. “I ‘ave been for ze past month and ‘alf, but  _ zank you _ for noticing.”

Hermione stared dumbly at her again. “Oh.”

Fleur giggled again, closing Hermione’s mouth with two delicate fingers. “Zo zould I take zat as a yes to ze Ball?”

Hermione suddenly found a surge of Gryffindor courage, looking at Fleur hard. “Only if you agree to a date, next Hogsmeade weekend first? And I get to see that  _ list _ ?”

Fleur positively beamed, nodding her head eagerly. “ _ Anyzing _ for you, ‘Ermione.”

The two girls had sat down at the lake, just talking, until Fleur had been called away by some other Beauxbaton students. As the two parted, Fleur kissed the corners of Hermione’s mouth, pulling back with a blush, and a small wave.

Hermione, in return, had stared after the girl, a finger placed on her lip. Once the French champion had disappeared, the Gryffindor all but ran up towards her common room. She ignored Harry and Ron’s shouts as she disappeared up the stairs, throwing herself on her bed happily.

The rest of the week passed in much the same fashion as the one before. The only difference was that Fleur now appeared before Hermione had even finished eating to dismiss Gabrielle, and that the older witch would now hold her hand whilst walking around. They hadn’t spoken about what exactly their relationship was now, but Katie had taken to increasing her teasing of the younger Gryffindor.

All too soon, it was Saturday, and Hermione was due to meet Fleur for their Hogsmeade  _ date _ soon after breakfast. Hermione was waiting nervously in the courtyard, reading a book Ros had given her from the Ravenclaw Library. However, whenever someone passed her, Hermione immediately looked up, looking for Fleur.

“I ‘ope you ‘aven’t been waiting long, ‘Ermione,” Fleur’s voice almost floated over to the Gryffindor, who had determinedly not looked up as the next batch of students passed them.

Hermione looked up suddenly from her book, finding Fleur with two other Beauxbatons students, all smiling down on her. Before Hermione could respond, the two other students reached down and pulled her up.

“ _ Bonjour _ ! You must be ‘Ermione Granger,  _ non _ ?” The girl asked, as she kissed Hermiones cheeks. “I am Claire, and zat boy es Alexander, we ‘ave ‘eard  _ zo _ much about you, Fleur talks very ‘ighly of you.”

“Ignore ‘er, ‘Ermione,” The boy, Alexander, interrupted smoothly, kissing both of Hermione’s cheeks as well. “Zee es just very excited to meet ze girl zat ‘as affected our Fleur zo much.”

Hermione was blushing furiously at the pair. Claire seemed to be deliberately pushing Fleur backwards, keeping the pair in between Hermione and Fleur. “It’s, uh, lovely to meet you both. I’m sorry if I’ve taken Fleur away from you both.”

The pair just looked at each other, then giggled slightly. Claire spoke up, seeing Hermione’s confusion. “ _ Non _ , do not worry about zat! Our petite Fleur es enchanted by you completely!”

“You are all zee talks about en ze carriage,” Alexander continued teasingly. He leant dramatically against the wall, his hand on his forehead. “ _ Oh do you zink ‘Ermione will like zis _ ?”

Claire added on, collapsing against Fleur, who was turning redder by the second. “‘ _ Ermione es zo clever, do you not zink zo _ ?”

“ _ Oh ‘Ermione es zo pretty, do you zink zee will like zis book _ ?”

“ _ ‘Ermione _ ,”

“ _ Did you zee what zee was wearing today, et was zo cute _ !”

“Ztop zat!” Fleur called out, pushing Claire off her. “I am zorry, ‘Ermione for zem.”

Hermione wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run away in embarrassment. “It’s fine, I think? I think it’s actually quite cute.” Claire and Alexander looked ecstatic at that, Fleur looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her up.

“Claire, I zink we ‘ave intruded enough,  _ non _ ?” Alexander said, throwing his arm over her shoulders. “Let ze couple ‘ave zeir date en peace.” 

“ _ D’accord _ , we zall zee you boz later zen!” Claire moved forwards, kissing Hermione’s cheeks. She then side stepped, allowing Alexander to do the same, before they both skipped off towards the village.

Hermione stepped forwards, pulling Fleur’s hand into her own. Fleur’s face was still flushed red, whilst Hermione had a grin on hers as they both started walking towards Hogsmeade.

“‘Ermione, I,” Fleur started.

“It’s fine, honestly,” Hermione interrupted. “They seemed lovely.”


	15. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure Fleurmione in this one! It's a lot smaller than my other chapters, but it didn't feel right to add more into this. Enjoy!

Fleur and Hermione walked to Hogsmeade holding hands. Fleur’s embarrassment over her friends seemed to subside as Hermione prattled off different facts about Hogsmeade. It was only when they finally made it to the main street did Hermione stop talking. It had started snowing during the past week, and Hogsmeade was covered in a blanket of snow, making it look even more magical.

“Uh, where do you want to go first, Fleur?” Hermione asked nervously. Suddenly, it all seemed real, that she was really on a  _ date _ with Fleur Delacour. However, those nerves seemed to turn into butterflies when Fleur gave her that beaming smile, eyes drinking in every detail of the village.

“Per’aps zomewhere we could warm up first,  _ non _ ?” Fleur replied, turning her attention to the younger witch. “Ze walk waz a bit longer zan I zought eet would be.”

Hermione blushed, having forgotten that this was Fleur’s first time to the village. “There’s Madam Puddifoot's Tea Room just off the main road - it’s a favourite haunt of couples.” Hermione added the last bit as a second thought. Her and Fleur had yet to say what exactly their relationship was. Sure they held hands, and they were with each other as much as possible, but that was it.

Fleur gave her a bashful grin, nodding eagerly. “Lead ze way?”

The two girls set off towards the Tea Room, albeit at a faster pace, as Hermione could practically  _ feel _ Fleur shivering. Madam Puddifoot greeted them at the door, leading them to a more private table at the back, away from the other couples in there. Hermione noticed that nobody looked up when they entered, something she was thankful for.

“Two teas  _ s’il vous plait _ ,” Fleur ordered, as Hermione was busy looking around the rather gaudy decorations.

“Zo w’at do ze Eenglish do on dates around ‘ere?” Fleur asked Hermione once their teas were delivered. Hermione blushed at the question.

“I don’t really know,” she admitted shyly. “I’ve never been on one before.”

Fleur looked at Hermione in surprise, narrowing her eyes. “Nobody ‘as ever?”

“No,” Hermione looked away, suddenly preoccupied with her cup. The Gryffindor jumped when Fleur held her hand suddenly.

“Well zen, zis ees a great ‘onour,” Fleur grinned at the younger girl. “I zall make zure eet ees  _ memorable _ , ‘Ermione.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly. “I think.”

The pair finished their teas quickly, Fleur wanting to explore the rest of the village. They got into a small debate over who should pay, but Fleur gave the money directly to Madam Puddifoot, and dragged Hermione outside before she could insist further.

“Here, take this,” Hermione said, taking off her Gryffindor scarf. “You’re shivering like mad Fleur.”

“ _ Merci _ ,” Fleur replied, wrapping the scarf around her neck delicately. The Beauxbaton champion led Hermione into several shops, Hermione buying Fleur several of her favourite chocolates in Honeydukes. In return, the Gryffindor was treated to several new books from Tomes and Scrolls.

As the duo passed Sprintwitches Sporting Needs, Hermione pulled Fleur inside, much to the latters’ surprise. “I did not know you played Qudditch, ‘Ermione,” Fleur said.

“Not for any of the house teams,” Hermione replied, flipping through the Chaser gloves. “But I play at home, but Katie needs a new pair of gloves, and so do I now I’m looking.”

“Per’aps we could ‘ave a match during ze break?” Fleur asked excitedly.

Hermione grinned at Fleur, nodding. “I’ll see if Ros will grab our brooms from home, and if anyone else wants to join in. I’m pretty sure Angelina and the twins will, as well as Katie, Amy, and Eve. Oh and Harry, he’s missed playing this year.”

“I zall get zome of Beauxbatons involved too, even out ze teams.” With a giggle, Hermione paid for the two pairs of gloves.

Once outside, Hermione led them towards the Shrieking Shack. “They say it’s haunted, however, we found out the true story last year,” Hermione explained, the pair sitting down on a bench. “One of the old students was a werewolf, and he came to the Shack during the full moon to transform. He would spend the night in the Shack alone.”

“Zats very lonely,” Fleur said softly, staring at the Shack.

“Yeah,” Hermione breathed out, leaning into Fleur. “Yeah it would be.”

They sat in silence, Fleur drawing patterns lazily across Hermione’s hands. Hermione stared at Fleur, wanting to forever remember this memory - Fleur’s cheeks red with cold, staring at Hermione like she was the only one in the world.

“Fleur,” Hermione said softly, catching the girl’s cheek in her hand. “That day - by the Lake. When Gabby interrupted - what were you going to do?”

“ _ Zis _ ,” Fleur said, leaning forward to catch Hermione’s lips on her own. Hermione couldn’t help the small gasp, her magic seeming to rush forwards, meeting Fleur’s own magic. It took another second, Hermione lost in their magic seemingly swirling around them, for the Gryffindor to react, pressing back against Fleur. Hermione felt the older girl’s hands weave into her hair, pulling them closer still.

Only when air became an issue did the two pull back, resting their foreheads together. Hermione could still feel their magic in the air, although it wasn’t as strong as before. Before the Gryffindor could think about that, pages from  _ The Book of Veela _ swirled in her head again, this time she could read them.

‘ _ When a Veela and her True Mate first kiss, their magic will jump towards each other, joining them. This signals the start of The Bonding, which will be completed once the pair consummate their relationship. If both of the pair are Veelas, The Bonding will be completed quickly, as both will feel the desire to consummate. If one is not Veela, only the Veela of the pair will feel this pull. Also, in this case, the Veela will have an overwhelming urge to protect their True Mate, bordering on possessiveness, due to the fear that the other is weaker, and more susceptible to attack. The need to be close to one another will be stronger once this process has been started. The Veela, in all cases, will be able to tell the emotions of the other more so than before, once The Bonding has started. _ ’

Hermione gasped at the memory, but before she could say anything, Fleur pulled her in for another kiss, their magic joining in the air. When they pulled back, Hermione placed a hand on Fleur’s shoulders.

“As much as I enjoy that,” Hermione said breathlessly. “We need to talk.”

Fleur didn’t seem to pay attention, trying to get another kiss. “Less talk,  _ mon amour _ .”

“No,” Hermione said, pushing Fleur. “No, I need an answer.”

The French witch, seeming to finally see Hermione’s need for answers, sat back, although still kept their hands together. “Go on zen.”

Hermione sighed, still trying to process the extract she’d remembered from the book. “Fleur, before we came back for term, Maribel gave me  _ The Book of Veela _ ,” Hermione started. “I need you to tell me what we are. Please?”

Fleur stared at her for a moment, thinking over her next words. “We are True Mates,” she said simply. “But I will not force you into anyzing you do not want. _ Mon dieu _ , you are ztill zo young, I would be ‘appy to be your girlfriend, if you want?” The French witch had trailed off, suddenly scared of scaring the other witch away.

“I would like that,” Hermione said, lifting her eyes to meet Fleur’s. The other witch smiled brightly at her. “But I’ve never, Fleur, I’ve never been in a relationship. Merlin, I don’t even know what I am.”

“Zen we will take zis at your pace,  _ ma chérie _ ,” Fleur replied quickly, pulling the younger girl in for a hug. “Zo long as eet ees  _ you _ on my arm for ze Yule Ball, you decide ze pace. I will not force you into anyzing, I mean zat.”

“And the protectiveness?” Hermione teased gently. Fleur glared down at her playfully, but eventually sighed softly.

“I am ‘oping, wiz my blood being diluted, eet zould not affect me as much as full veelas.” Fleur grinned cheekily at Hermione. “Now, may we continue kissing?”

Hermione smirked back. “I believe you promised me a list of things you like about me?”

  
“After kisses,  _ oui _ .”


	16. Quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's taken a bit of time to post, enjoy!

The week following Hermione’s and Fleur’s date passed quickly. Gabby still met Hermione after classes, with Fleur coming halfway through. Hermione had brought up the idea of having a Quidditch match with Katie and Amy, who both immediately agreed and ran off to get Ros to bring their brooms in. Angelina and Alicia Spinnet agreed as well, promising to get permission to use the pitch from McGonagall. 

All too soon, the Christmas Break came, and Hermione was sat in the library. It was Saturday, and the first day of the break, but Hermione wanted to finish all her homework. Thankfully, her normal study nook was deserted, so the table was quickly covered in various books and parchment. The young Gryffindor was bent over her Ancient Runes essay, so engrossed that she missed the person moving to stand in front of her table.

“Hello, you are Hermy-own, correct?” The figure said, making Hermione jump, spilling ink all over her essay. Hermione looked up at the Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum, barely hiding her annoyance at the interruption.

“Hi, yes I am,” she replied. “You’re Viktor Krum, right?”

“Just Viktor, please,” Viktor said carefully. “I am sorry for interrupting, but I vould like to ask a question.”

“Of course.”

“Vould you like to come to the Ball vith me?” Viktor looked incredibly nervous, and Hermione bit her lip.

“I’m sorry Viktor, I’ve already got a date for the Ball. But thank you for the offer.” Hermione said softly.

“Oh,” Viktor said sadly. “Vell then, I am sorry for interrupting your studies.”

With that, Viktor turned and left, leaving Hermione to do her homework. Sighing, the Gryffindor pulled out her wand, trying to salvage her Runes essay. Before she could spell it away, another wand appeared suddenly, and removed the spilt ink. 

“‘W’at did ‘e want?” Fleur asked, putting her wand back in her sleeve and sitting down.

“Hello to you too,” Hermione mumbled, checking her essay. “Thanks for cleaning that up.”

Fleur sighed slightly. “ _ Bonjour _ ‘Ermione. Now w’at did Krum want wiz you?”

“He asked me to the Yule Ball,” Hermione replied distractedly. “I said no, he left.”

The older witch frowned towards the front of the library. Hermione sighed, pressing a kiss to Fleur’s cheek. “Don’t look like that, Fleur,” the Gryffindor said, moving her homework into her bag. “I’m sure you’ve been asked out loads lately.”

Fleur’s frown deepened. “ _ Oui _ , but I do not like anyone asking you. Eet es different.”

“Oh yeah?” Hermione teased. “I thought you wouldn’t get so protective?” Fleur just glared at her as they left the library. “But go on, who’s the latest to ask you out?”

“Zat blue boy - Rodger Davies or zomezing,” Fleur shook her head, letting Hermione pull them outside towards the Lake. “I tried to ztop ‘im before ‘e embarrassed ‘imself. ‘E transfigured my book to turn into roses after I zaid  _ non _ .”

Hermione couldn’t help the laugh that exploded out of her. Every day, even when Hermione was with her, more and more boys came up and asked for Fleur to go to the Ball with them. Each one was more ridiculous than the last. Hermione was abruptly dragged from her musings by Gabrielle jumping on her back.

“Mi! Mi!” The young girl shouted excitedly in her ear. “Are you really going to play Quidditch tomorrow? Can I watch? Fleur will not let me fly a broom.”

“Gabrielle!” Fleur cut across. “Get  _ down _ . Do you not ‘ave anyone else to annoy?”

“I ‘ave missed my Mi!” Gabrielle said sweetly, climbing down from Hermione to grab her hand instead. “You keep giving me zilly zings to do.”

“Zere es a reazon for zat!” Fleur exclaimed, openly glaring at her sister. Hermione, once again, found herself laughing loudly at the pair, causing two pairs of blue eyes to settle on her.

“Honestly, you two,” Hermione managed to say in between bouts of laughter. “You both need to  _ talk _ to each other. I’m going to find Katie, and see if she’s gotten Ros to get our brooms yet. Yes Gabby, you can come tomorrow and watch.”

“‘Ermione! I wanted to spend time wiz you,” Fleur pouted, and in that moment, Hermione thought it was the cutest thing she’s ever seen. This pout was quickly copied by Gabrielle, who looked every bit of a miniature Fleur right then. 

“ _ Oui _ , Mi, please,” Gabrielle begged.

Hermione sighed, then planted a kiss on the younger Delacour's forehead. “No, seriously, I’m going to find Katie. I’ll see you both later. Don’t  _ hurt _ each other!” The Gryffindor turned, giving Fleur a chaste kiss, before turning to head back to the castle.

True to word, Hermione did find Katie in the Gryffindor common room, with the other two Gryffindor chasers, and the Weasley twins. Katie spotted her first, quickly pulling Hermione over to their spot near the fireplace.

“Maribel’s bringing our brooms tomorrow,” Katie said excitedly. “She’s bringing all of the Firebolts, so everyone’s on the same broom!”

“We’re just working out the teams,” Angelina interrupted smoothly. “Ginny, Ron, and Harry have all agreed to come and play as well.”

“Although we don’t know how Ginny knows how to ride a broom,” Fred added.

“She’s never been allowed on  _ ours _ ,” George continued.

Hermione giggled slightly at the pair, shaking her head. “She’s been stealing your brooms since she was six.”

“Oh,” The twins replied, staring at their sister on the other side of the room.

“Anyway,” Alicia changed the topics. “Since when have you been able to fly, Granger? Always thought you hated it.”

“Katie taught me, over the summers,” Hermione shrugged, letting Katie pull her in for a sideways hug. “Didn’t really give me a choice, to be entirely honest.”

“Yeah, but now you’re a halfway decent player,” Katie teased. “Who can be in  _ any _ position.”

“Does Harry and Ron know you’re playing?” Alicia asked, having spotted the pair making their way upstairs.

Hermione was suddenly very worried. “No, Merlin, no they don’t.” Her face had paled rapidly.

“Hey hey hey,” Katie said smoothly, running her hands up and down Hermione’s arms. “‘Mione, listen to me. You don’t need to worry about that. Don’t worry about them.”

“But they’re my  _ friends _ and I haven’t told them!” Hermione panicked. “With everything Ron said at the start of the year, about the  _ lies _ and this is another thing! What if they hate me, for everything?”

“Listen, Granger,” Angelina said sharply, turning the girl to face her. “If they hate you, so what? What can they hate you for anyway?”

“Yeah,” Alicia piped up. “They’re not good friends if they let this be the thing that breaks you apart!”

“But that’s the thing,” Hermione said sadly. “With everything that happened last year over Harry’s broom, and how Ron reacted at the start of the year. They’re the first friends I ever had.”

“And now you’ve got us,” George jumped in.

“Sometimes you gotta let friends go, Hermione,” Fred added.

“Remember what Ros said,” Katie spoke softly. “You’re a Ravenclaw. And we stick with each other. I’m pretty sure they’re going to watch us tomorrow at any rate, so if they  _ do _ start anything, they’ll put a stop to it!”

“You’re right,” Hermione said quietly after a minute. “I’m sorry, I just wish I could explain everything to them, but I think they’d rather ignore it for the most part.”

Everyone bundled in for a hug, before Angelina changed the topic to the Yule Ball. Hermione stayed downstairs for a little while longer, before finally heading upstairs to bed.

The next morning was thankfully very clear. It was still cold, but it wasn’t snowing. Hermione made her way towards the Great Hall, as they hadn’t set a time to start playing. Alicia had mentioned something about Madam Hooch agreeing to referee their match, as she was missing Quidditch this year.

As Hermione sat down for breakfast, pulling some toast towards her, she felt herself wrapped in a blanket of warmth. Seconds later, Maribel sat down next to her, kissing the younger girl on the cheek.

“Morning ‘Mione,” she said happily. “Ros and Hooch are taking the brooms down to the pitch, I think they’re going to have a play before you all go down.”

“Hi Maribel,” Hermione replied, leaning into the older witch’s touch. “Thanks for bringing them.”

Maribel just waved her off, grabbing a pastry. “No worries, just stay safe. Minivera’s coming down to watch as well, something about the majority of the players being from her House?”

The Gryffindor blushed. “Yeah, but Eve and Amy are playing too!”

“That’s alright, it’ll be interesting to see how everyone plays.” Maribel paused. “So what’s happening with Fleur?”

Hermione’s eyes widened, suddenly very interested in her toast. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“Don’t play coy with me, ‘Mione,” Maribel teased. “I’ve seen my niece, she’s practically floating around.”

“Viktor Krum asked me to the Ball,” Hermione said suddenly. “I said no.”

Maribel’s smile brightened further, seeming to get the hidden message. Before they could say anything further, they were dragged down to the pitch by an excited Amy.

“Morning!” Ros called as they entered the Quidditch pitch. “Just waiting on the young Mr Weasley and Mr Potter before you can get started!”

Hermione let Eve pull her into a hug, ignoring the teasing glances sent by Alexander and Claire. Just like Maribel had said, Professor McGonagall was waiting as well, talking to Madam Hooch. Gabrielle pulled Hermione into a hug as well, placing a noisy kiss on both her cheeks.

“‘Ermione,  _ bonjour _ ,” Fleur said once Gabrielle had released her. Hermione couldn’t help but stare at Fleur, who was wearing a full set of Quidditch robes. The older witch placed a single kiss on the corner of Hermione’s mouth, blushing slightly as she pulled back. 

Before Hermione could say anything, Claire and Alexander pulled the girl into a hug, placing kisses as well. They were both dressed the same as Fleur, all in the powder blue robes. Just as it seemed like they were going to tease them, Hooch interrupted.

“There’s Potter and Weasley, let’s get started!”

“Right,” Angelina started, who was standing by the broomsticks and a board. “We’ve got the teams sorted. Normal Quidditch rules! Lady Ravenclaw has loaned us her brooms for us all to use, so everyone is on Firebolts. Sorry Potter, no advantage here!”

Harry blushed lightly, his own Firebolt over his shoulder. Ron looked ecstatic at the brooms, grinning broadly.

“Right so on one team,” Angelina continued. “We have Hermione, Katie, and Amy as Chasers. Fred, George, you’re Beaters. Potter, you’re the Seeker, and Eve, you’re in goal. On the other team, Fleur, Alicia, and myself are Chasers. Claire and Alexander - Fleur said you normally play Beaters, so you two are there. Weasley you’re a Keeper, and Ginny, you take the other Seeker position. Everyone happy?”

Ron, Harry, and Ginny had given Hermione a strange glance when she was announced as Chaser, but she hadn’t had time to reply when Amy dragged them over to their brooms. Gathering in a huddle, Amy spoke to their team together.

“We all happy with our positions?” She asked, waiting for everyone to nod. “Good, let’s show them what we’re made of then!”

As the rest of them picked up their brooms, Ros, Maribel, Gabrielle, and McGonagall had made their way into the stands, Hooch standing by the Quidditch chest. She sharply blew her whistle, letting both teams fly into the air.

Hermione relished in the feeling of flying, Katie and Amy keeping close. Katie shouted over to them as they were rising. “Usual play? Never seen Weasley in goal, but the twins reckon he isn’t so sharp at it!”

Amy and Hermione nodded, as Hooch released the Bludgers and Snitch. She then flew up to the middle, throwing the Quaffle and whistling again. Amy quickly shot forward and scooped up the Quaffle, avoiding Angelina’s outstretched arm. Hermione was aware of Fleur on her own tail, so sped up to move ahead of Amy. Ron looked nervous in goal, as Amy threw the Quaffle to Katie, quickly passing to Hermione.

Alicia tried to grab the Quaffle off Hermione, who swerved to avoid her. Claire sent a Bludger in her direction, although George quickly sped down to hit it away, cheering as he went. Hermione, still in possession of the Quaffle, started flying higher as she approached the goals, Ron watching her eagerly. Just as Fleur tried to grab the Quaffle, Hermione let it drop down to Katie, who quickly got it through the left hoop.

Fleur grinned at Hermione, ignoring Alexander shouting in French at her. Hermione blew her a kiss, before flying back down to join Amy and Katie. 

“Merlin Granger,” George shouted as he passed.

“Why aren’t you on the House team?” Fred added, holding his bat up, eyeing a Bludger.

Hermione just smiled at them, focusing on the Quaffle, what was now in Angelina’s possession. 

“Weasley isn’t that great in goal is he?” Amy asked, the three of them waiting for the others to approach. “He was too busy paying attention to your flying ‘Mione.”

“They’ve never  _ seen _ me fly, Amy, that’s why,” Hermione replied, adjusting her gloves.

Angelina threw the Quaffle towards Fleur, Alicia speeding towards the three. Amy stayed in place, letting Katie go high, and Hermione lowered down. Fred sent a Bludger towards Fleur, who quickly passed the Quaffle to Alicia.

Eve sat in goal, watching the Chasers approach. Hermione tried to take the Quaffle off of Alicia, but missed the pass to Angelina, instead having to sharply turn to avoid crashing. The Hufflepuff’s eyes narrowed as the Chaser approached, having played enough games over the summer to know that Angelina was about to faint throwing it. Sure enough, as Katie came in to take possession, Angelina threw the Quaffle up to Fleur, who tried scoring. Eve reached out to stop it, barely keeping hold of it.

Swearing, Fleur headed back to the middle, Angelina and Alicia in tow. Not wanting to waste time, the Quaffle was thrown to Katie, avoiding a Bludger sent by Alexander. Harry and Ginny were flying in loops around the top of the pitch, trying to spot the Snitch. As Ginny dived, Amy managed to get another goal past Ron. Harry followed Ginny’s dive, but they both lost the Snitch as a Bludger came hurtling towards them.

“Should we try something different this time?” Hermione asked Amy and Katie, watching Ron try to pick who to through the Quaffle to. 

“Go on then,” Katie replied happily. 

Nodding, Hermione sped towards the goal, forcing Ron to throw the Quaffle. As it arched through the air, Fleur barely had time to grab it before Amy had grabbed it out of her hands. Amy spun around, wanting to lead the Chasers away from the goal. The twins, seeming to catch on, quickly sent both Bludgers towards the opposing Chasers. Amy threw the Quaffle to Hermione, ducking under Angelina. 

Hermione sped towards the goals, Ron watching carefully. Katie pulled ahead to get his attention, allowing Hermione to arc the Quaffle through the middle hoop. She faintly heard Claire and Alexander swear, grinning happily as Katie pulled up beside her and hugged the younger brunette tightly. 

“Go on ‘Mione!” Eve shouted from her goal, clapping excitedly.

The teams kept playing for a while longer, Hermione managing to score several more times, as well as the other two. Fleur finally managed to get a goal for her team, as Claire sent a Bludger directly towards Eve, forcing her to fly away.

Hermione watched Fleur wearily, Quaffle tucked safely under her arm. Narrowing her eyes, the Gryffindor opted to just fly by the other witch. Hermione was vaguely aware of Harry flying towards the goals, Ginny on his tail. Readjusting the Quaffle, Hermione sped up, knowing Amy and Katie would be trailing behind. Just as the brunette went to pass Fleur, the French witch lent over, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s lips.

It was just a second. A tiny, little kiss. But it was enough that Hermione’s grip on the Quaffle loosened. Fleur pulled back, giving the stunned witch a wink, as she grabbed the Quaffle, racing towards Eve. Leaving Hermione, still stunned, in the middle of the pitch.

“‘Mione you useless gay, come on!” Amy shouted at her, spinning around to try and catch Fleur.

Shaking her head out of the daze, Hermione spun around as well. Just in time to see Fleur pass the Quaffle to Alicia, who scored past Eve. At the same time, Harry cheered, Snitch safely in his hand.

The teams cheered, although Angelina was just gaping at Hermione, Amy, and Katie. They slowly made their way back to the ground, Alexander charming the Bludgers to return to the box.

“Granger,” Hooch said as they finally all landed. “Where exactly did you learn to fly?”

Hermione blushed, ducking her head. “Katie taught me over the past few summers.”

Harry and Ron both stared at her, Ginny punching them both to close their mouths. Katie stepped protectively towards Hermione, wrapping her arms over her shoulders. Before the two boys could say anything, Gabrielle had ran across from the stands, throwing herself into Hermione’s arms.

“Mi! Mi! I want to fly!” Gabrielle cheered, giggling. “Can I fly wiz you?”

“Maybe some other time Gabby?” Hermione replied, trying to keep hold of her.

As the others went to leave, Amy and Angelina discussing tactics, Fleur stepped towards Hermione and Gabrielle.

“That was cheating, Fleur,” Hermione teased, a small smile on her face.

“Eet waz playing to my advantage,  _ non _ ?” Fleur replied, reaching forward to twirl a strand of Hermione’s hair. Gabrielle snorted, still clinging to Hermione’s neck. Fleur glared down at her sister. “Gabrielle, leave.”

“ _ Non _ ,” the younger Delacour said stubbornly.

“We are going to be groz, Gabrielle,” Fleur warned, checking around her to make sure the pitch was empty. Hermione frowned at her, wondering what she was doing. Fleur pressed her lips to Hermione’s again, just for a second, but it was all the older girl needed.

“Zat es  _ brute _ ,” Gabrielle said firmly, her nose wrinkling. It did have the desired effect of the younger girl leaving. Although not without placing her usual kisses on Hermione’s cheeks.

“You didn’t have to scare her away, you know?” Hermione said, letting Fleur pull her into her arms.

“I know, but I wanted to ‘ave time wiz  _ my girlfriend _ , wizout my zeezter.” Fleur hummed back, leaning forward to capture Hermione’s lips again. Hermione pulled back after a few minutes, losing herself in the feel of their magic around them.

“I quite like the sound of that,” Hermione mused. “Being your girlfriend, that is.”

“I zall ‘ave to zay eet more zen,” Fleur teased. “After ze Ball, when everyone knows about us. I zall zing eet from ze towers.”

The Gryffindor blushed, shaking her head. “Maybe not that far?”

“Ahh  _ mon amour _ , you wound me,” Fleur grinned. “Come to ze carriage wiz me? Zpend ze day? Eet es far too cold out ‘ere.”

“You just want to get me into your room, don’t you?” Hermione poked Fleur, although did allow the other girl to start leading the way.

“Per’aps, I alzo ‘ave zat list I promised you.”

“Fine,” Hermione grumbled playfully. “Let’s go then.”

Hermione swore to herself that Fleur would never lose that beaming smile she gave her.


	17. The Beauxbatons Carriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to start off with a massive apology for not updating in two months! I honestly lost a bit of purpose with it, and rewrote this chapter over and over again. In the end, I'm still not sure of it, but hopefully, by getting past this chapter, I can go back to a semi-regular update schedule! 
> 
> In other news, however, even with all the pain of this chapter, I have written random snippets of later ideas - mostly focussing on Fifth Year, and a bit with regards to Seventh, and even the recovery afterwards. So I have ideas going forward! I have plans for sequals! And a few one shot ideas with the Ravenclaw family, which I'll post seperately at some point. 
> 
> I also just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has commented, or left kudos, or even just read it. I get every notification, and you're all the reason why I even bothered continuing to write this chapter. Much love to you all!
> 
> I'll let you guys read on, it's a bit short, but with all my stalling with this chapter, I have written most of the next few!

Fleur led Hermione into the Beauxbatons carriage nervously. Hermione, however, was busy looking around the carriage in delight. It seemed that no expense was spared inside, complete with chandeliers over the main room.

“It’s beautiful, Fleur,” Hermione breathed. 

“We all ‘ave our own rooms, ze boys on ze left, girls on ze right.” Fleur supplied, motioning to the top of the stairs. They both jumped when a cough sounded to the side of the room, turning to find Madam Maxime there.

“Madame Maxime,” Fleur started, gripping Hermione’s hand a bit tighter. “Zis es ‘Ermione Granger -”

“I know, Fleur,” Maxime waved her off, breaking out into a smile as she approached the pair, pulling Hermione in for the customary cheek kisses. “Eet ees lovely to meet you, Mademoiselle Granger. I ‘ope you enjoy ze carriage.”

“Thank you Madame Maxime,” Hermione said softly. “It’s a lovely place, truly.”

“Good good, you are free to come by anytime, Mademoiselle Granger.” With that, Maxime turned away, disappearing back where she came from. Fleur gaped after her, frowning,

“Zee ‘as never zaid zat to anyone before,” Fleur mumbled.

“Well, let’s go before she changes her mind?” Hermione asked, grinning at the other witch. “I believe you wanted to show me your room?”

Fleur just nodded, leading them up the stairs to the right. Finally, they came to a door at the end of the hallway, which Fleur took them into. Hermione walked around Fleur’s room, fingers tracing the spines of books on her bookcase. The room wasn’t overly big, but it had enough room for a desk, and a double four poster bed against one wall.

“Is everything in this carriage the same blue as your uniforms?” Hermione teased, looking over the papers on the desk.

“Eet es pride,  _ non _ ?” Fleur replied, sitting down on her bed. “And to remind us of our bedrooms at Beauxbatons. I zink Gabby ‘as ze only room not like Beauxbatons, but zat es because zee does not attend yet.”

“Where is everyone?” Hermione picked up one of the papers, quickly working out it was her Defence homework.

“Ze ozzers?” Fleur shrugged. “I zink a lot are in ze castle, we only ‘ave our own books in ‘ere. You can zit down, you know? Ze bed es plenty big,  _ oui _ ?”

Hermione blushed slightly, perching on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, Fleur grabbed her waist, pulling them both backwards. “Fleur! What are you doing?” Hermione half screamed out.

“We were not comfortable,” the older witch said simply, giving Hermione a toothy grin. Fleur settled when Hermione put her head in her lap, gentle fingers running through the bushy hair.

“You didn’t have to drag me down though,” Hermione said softly, not truly angry at the situation.

“Eet waz ze better option, and it means I can do zis!” Fleur lowered her head, giving Hermione a chaste kiss. When she pulled back, Hermione had a goofy grin plastered across her face.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Hermione said breathlessly.

“Good,” Fleur replied happily. “Eet means I am a good kisser!”

Hermione grinned up at Fleur, deciding to tease the older girl a little. “Perhaps, but you are the only one I’ve ever kissed, and in the interest of science, shouldn’t I kiss  _ other _ people as well? Just to back up your claims, of course?”

Fleur glared down, quickly moving positions to straddle the Gryffindor, her hands held above her head. “Don’t you  _ dare _ , ‘Ermione.” The older girl’s eyes had darkened significantly. Hermione swore she heard her growl.

“Fleur!  _ Merde _ lock your door in ze future!” Claire half shouted, standing with Alexander in the doorway. Hermione blushed furiously, trying to get Fleur off of her.

“Per’aps eet would be better if Fleur  _ did _ leave ‘er door open, w’enever zee ‘as ‘Ermione ‘ere,” Alexander was opening grinning at the situation. “Eet would not be  _ proper _ if zee ‘as ‘er girlfriend ‘ere wiz ze door closed!”

Hermione did not like the look in either of their eyes in that moment. Claire seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Alexander, judging by the smirk that was now plastered across her face. “True true, per’aps we need to get zomebody to look after zem, don’t you zink, Alexander?”

“ _ Oui _ ,  _ oui _ , maybe we do, Claire.”

“Right, you ‘ave ‘ad your fun, now  _ leave _ ,” Fleur growled out, finally moving off Hermione to pick up her wand. “ _ Before _ I ‘ex you.”

Claire and Alexander looked at the wand for a moment, before doubling over in laughter. When Fleur’s grip changed, flicking the wand to be aimed at them, the pair finally left, their laughter echoing down the hall.

Sighing, Fleur waved her wand at the door, slamming it shut, before falling backwards onto her pillows. Hermione’s face still hadn’t gone back to normal, but she had opted to sit up in the middle of the bed.

“We can spend some time with your friends, you know, or Gabby,” Hermione mused, tracing a pattern in the bed covers.

The French witch sighed, reaching forward to grab Hermione’s hands gently. “Eet es not a veela zing,” she started softly. “Gabby ‘as known you for over a year. I am a little jealous of zat,  _ oui _ , but zat cannot be ‘elped. I want to ‘ave time wiz you, wizout anyone interrupting.”

“Oh,” Hermione started, running her thumb along Fleur’s hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think-”

“Eet es fine, ‘Ermione,” Fleur interrupted, a smile breaking out on her face. “Really.”

Hermione gave the older witch a small grin, shuffling closer together on the bed. “So what exactly are we meant to do whilst alone in your room, Fleur?” Hermione teased, reaching to twirl a blonde strand of hair.

“Well, we  _ could _ do zome ‘omework,” Fleur said absently, smiling gently at the Gryffindor. 

Hermione grinned playfully, shaking her head slightly. “I seemed to have forgotten my homework in the common room.”

Fleur grinned, quickly grabbing Hermione and pulling her into a hug. The younger girl huffed as she settled in Fleur’s lap, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Fleur’s hand cupped Hermione’s face, pulling them closer for another kiss. Just as the two pulled away, the door swung open again forcefully.

“Ew!” Gabby’s voice shouted, giving the pair a second to pull away before she launched herself into their arms. Hermione groaned loudly, Gabrielle smiling proudly between them.

“W’at ees ze Eenglish saying?” Claire called sweetly from the open doorway, a large smirk on her face.

“I zink eet ees keep room for Jesus,  _ non _ ?” Alexander sung, with an equally large smirk on his face.

Fleur’s glare was murderous, quickly leaping up and chasing the other two students down the carriage. Hermione could faintly hear Claire and Alexander laughing the whole time.


	18. A Family Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter here - a bit of family fluff, and of course, Katie! 
> 
> From now on, any sentances in italics is in French
> 
> Enjoy!

Hermione spent the rest of the day in the Beauxbatons Carriage. Gabby had kept her entertained, whilst Fleur attempted to catch Claire and Alexander. Thankfully, Fleur had left her wand on the cabinet, but that hadn’t stopped her from tackling Alexander to the sofa - Claire just dodged out the way.

Madam Maxime had been less than impressed with the display. The three of them had trekked back to the room, but in no more trouble than some hurt ears.

The young Gryffindor grinned to herself as she walked into her common room. Fleur had snuck in several kisses throughout the day, each one promised more than the last. Much to the older girls' chagrin, Claire, Alexander, and Gabby had stayed with them for the rest of the day, lazing about Fleur’s room. And throwing stuff when they kissed, of course.

Hermione’s eyes flicked over the room, noticing Harry and Ron playing Chess in a corner. Steeling herself, she wandered over towards them, giving a small smile to the Weasley twins perched in front of the fireplace as she passed.

“Hi boys,” Hermione said quietly, slipping into the seat next to them. “Good afternoon?”

Both Harry and Ron jumped, and looked over at her. Harry recovered first from the scare, giving Hermione a grin. “Yeah, it was good. Nice playing earlier too.”

“When did you learn to play?” Ron questioned, eyes glancing between the board and Hermione.

“It’s a family tradition to play Quidditch on the first night back over the summer,” Hermione sighed wishfully, thinking over the summers she spent learning to play. With her  _ siblings _ . “Katie was the most insistent to teach me.”

Ron nodded, finally looking eagerly towards her. “Why don’t you join the team then? You were brilliant! What’s your favourite position to play?”

Hermione blinked at Ron for a moment. It had been a very long time since Ron had bothered directing Quidditch questions at her, and she was caught out. “I mean, I don’t think I’m any good to actually try out, Ron. And it’s not like I overly  _ enjoy _ the game, it’s still barabic! And dangerous!”

Hermione grinned internally as Ron tuned out the incoming Quidditch rant. He redirected his attention to the board, thinking over his next move.

“Where did you go afterwards?” Harry questioned her quietly, although there was a knowing gleam in his eyes.

Hermione blushed, diverting her eyes. “Beauxbatons Carriage,” she mumbled.

“With  _ Fleur _ ?” He asked back - Ron still distracted by the board. When Hermione just nodded, he smirked victoriously. “If she hurts you-”

“She won’t,” Hermione interrupted quickly. “But thank you.”

Harry nodded, groaning as Ron called checkmate. “How’s it going with your egg?” Hermione questioned, pulling the boys attention from the Chessboard.

“Come off it Hermione,” Ron whined. “It’s  _ Christmas _ , we’ve got plenty of time before the next task!”

Hermione glared at the pair, Harry at least had the decency to look sheepish. “I’ll start working it out after Christmas, I promise.” Harry replied sincerely. 

Hermione softened, nodding. “I’m going to hold you to that, Harry Potter,” she said with mock seriousness.

The three of them laughed at each other, shortly heading up to their dorms for the night.

The first half of the Christmas Break seemed to fly by. Hermione was very rarely alone, much to her happiness. She completed her homework in the Carriage in the first few days, albeit with Fleur trying to distract her. Alexander had loaned Hermione one of his Arthimacy books, that, despite being in French, allowed Hermione to add some advanced details into her essays. 

When she wasn’t with Fleur, she was with Harry and Ron, splitting her time between egging them about their homework, or playing around in the snow. However, it seemed neither of them had any luck with getting dates for the Yule Ball, which was quickly approaching.

Hermione was sitting in the Common Room, just a few days before the Yule Ball, engrossed in a French novel she had borrowed from Fleur. Katie was working through a piece of homework next to her. Hermione smiled up at Harry as he slumped down, but it quickly turned into a frown when she saw his face.

“You alright?” Hermione asked, marking her place in the book and putting it down. Katie looked up from her work, but refrained from saying anything.

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled. “I just asked Cho to the Ball. She’s already going with Cedric.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione sighed, leaning over to give him a hug. “I’m sorry, there’s plenty of others.”

Katie reached over her work to give the younger boy a quick squeeze as well. “That’s rough buddy.”

Whatever Harry’s reply was about to be was interrupted by the portrait swinging open. Ron half-stumbled, half-carried into the Room by Ginny, who swiftly deposited him on the free sofa. He had a dumbstruck look on his face, mouth gaping.

“You alright mate?” Harry asked, crouching in front of him. Ginny perched herself on the arm of the sofa, smirking slightly.

Hermione and Katie glanced at each other, before Hermione joined Harry in front of Ron.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Ron started, staring blankly at the fire between Hermione and Harry. “She was just  _ there _ y’know, with the other students.”

“Who was there?” Hermione asked quietly. “What happened?”

“I just asked Fleur Delacour to the Ball,” Ron mumbled, still unfocussed. Hermione stiffened, eyes narrowing slightly. Katie sniggered under her breath behind them.

“Shouted at her more like,” Ginny added gleefully. Ron shot her a dirty look.

“Then what happened?” Harry pushed, risking a glance at Hermione carefully.

Hermione cut in sharply, “she said no, of course.”

Ron just shook his head, causing Hermione to inhale sharply. Harry was watching Hermione out the corner of his eye. Katie had leant forward, abandoning any pretense of working in favour of giving Hermione attention.

“She - she just looked at me like I was some sort of frog,” Ron stammered out.

Ginny interrupted again. “Well you did sort of scream at her, from across the courtyard. It was pretty terrifying.”

Hermione relaxed slightly at that, filing away that little bit of jealousy for later inspection. 

“I just had to run for it, y’know,” Ron finished dully. He shook his head, before finally turning his attention to Harry. “You had any luck with dates yet?”

Harry shook his head, moving to sit on the floor. “I asked Cho, but she’s already going with Cedric.”

“Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty isn’t she?” Hermione said lofitly. She moved back to her original seat, planning on finishing the chapter she was on.

“Hey - Hermione,” Ron was staring at Hermione intently, and almost like he was only just seeing her. “Neville’s right, you  _ are _ a girl.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Neville had asked her to the Ball earlier in the week, and now she figured this conversation would not go over well. “Oh well spotted Ronald,” Hermione said acidly.

Ron seemed to ignore her tone, although Hermione could see Katie glaring at the red-head out of the corner of her eye. “Well - you could come with one of us!”

“No I can’t,” Hermione snapped back, slamming her novel closed again. “I already  _ have  _ a date.”

“No you don’t,” Ron said impatiently. “You only said that to get rid of Neville. It’ll look sad-”

“Just because,” Hermione cut him off irritably. “It’s taken  _ you _ three years to realise I’m a  _ girl _ , doesn’t mean it’s taken anyone  _ else _ that long. Get yourself a date, Ronald, and not just use me as your last resort.”

With that, Hermione stood up, swinging her bag violently over her shoulder. She stormed upstairs, pointedly ignoring whatever Ron said as she left. Thankfully, Lavender and Parvati weren’t in bed yet, so Hermione could storm through her night routine, and settle into bed.

“You good ‘Mione?” Katie, who had changed in bedclothes, called hesitantly from the doorway. Hermione had barely thrown herself onto her bed, motionned for the older girl to come in. Katie grinned slightly, sitting down on the end of the bed.

“It’s just Ron being Ron,” Hermione mumbled, arms crossed over her chest. 

“He’s an idiot,” Katie supplied happily. “All boys are at his age.”

“We’re only a year younger than you,” Hermione raised her eyebrows.

Katie offered a waving hand in return. “Same thing. Anyway, let’s park that conversation, and move onto Fleur.”

Hermione smiled, sighing wishfully. “She’s honestly perfect, Katie.”

“Good,” the older Gryffindor replied. “I’ll have to get the others to do the  _ sibling _ talk one of these days.”

“You don’t need to -”

“You’re  _ our _ sister,” Katie cut in. “We all love you. If she hurts you, even a little, it’s only fair to give her warning.”

Hermione just nodded, a few tears slipping out. Christmas was always an emotional time for her. Katie brought Hermione out of her spiral by just moving over to cuddle together. The older girl hummed a song under her breath, waving her wand to close the curtains around the bed as Hermione’s roommates walked in. The two stayed wrapped up together as they fell asleep for the night.

Christmas Eve came quickly after that. Ron had taken to bugging Hermione about who she was going to the Ball with, and she had never been happier to not be left alone. Ros and Maribel had been absent from the school in the lead up to Christmas, but had passed around a message for the family to meet up on the Seventh floor that evening.

Hermione trekked up to the Seventh floor with Evan. The Ravenclaw student had made apologies to Fleur and Gabby at dinner, before practically dragging Hermione away.

“You’re cute with Fleur, you know?” Evan observed casually, as they rounded the final corner. Hermione just blushed in return. “Anyway, here we are!”

“What exactly is here?” Hermione asked, the question echoing down the empty corridor. A shrug was the only response, which turned into a gasp as a door appeared. 

Amy popped her head out of the door, grinning excitedly at them. “You’re the last ones, come on!”

Hermione glanced confused at Evan, who shrugged again, walking into the room together. Hermione gasped again as they stepped into the Ravenclaw living room. Maribel grinned at the pair of them, quickly striding over to pull them both into a hug.

“Merry Christmas you two,” Maribel said happily, moving out of the way as Ros embraced them.

“Thought we would have a family Christmas together!” Ros called excitedly. “The others can’t make it, but I’m sure we can sort out something for everyone over the summer.”

Hermione and Evan were ushered to a couch, cups of hot chocolate pressed into their hands. “What is this room?” Hermione asked, as she was pretty certain they were still in Hogwarts.

“This,” Ros explained. “Is known as the Come and Go Room, or the Room of Requirement. It turns itself into whatever the seeker needs - such as a study room when I was in my OWLs year.”

“Wicked,” Evan breathed out.

“Yeah, it is,” continued Ros. “Very very useful, but you need to be specific in what you need, otherwise the Room gets confused.”

“It’s amazing, how come it’s not more widely known?” Katie asked from her spot against Amy.

“Hogwarts will always provide help when it is needed,” Ros answered vaguely.

The children, seeming happy with the answers, were content to sit quietly and sip at their drinks. Maribel was the one to break the silence in the end, with a huge smile plastered on her face at her family. 

“We hope that the TV will work, so we can watch a few Christmas films? And Dumbledore has given us all permission to stay in here overnight, if that’s what you all want?”

Immediately, everyone agreed, happy to spend time altogether. The Room provided a spare room for everyone to get changed into pajamas, as Ros went to put in the first film. Hermione was dragged to where Amy, Katie, and Eve were sitting as soon as she had finished changing. Hermione settled herself with her head in Katie’s lap, who in turn was leaning against Amy. Eve put herself under Hermione’s legs.

The rest of Christmas Eve passed in a blur, in between teasing remarks about Hermione and Fleur. The Room seemed to know when they were starting to fall asleep, providing enough blankets and pillows to recreate the fort from the summer to sleep in. One by one, the family fell asleep, grins plastered on their face.

The next morning dawned bright and early. Hermione woke up with a present being thrown at her head.

“Merry Christmas sleepyhead!” Amy shouted excitedly, grinning over at the bushy haired witch.

“What did you throw that for?” Hermione groaned, waking Katie up in turn by pushing her over.

“Christmas!” Eddie said happily. 

“Morning loves,” Maribel called, a smile in place. Ros was yawning against her shoulder, with a dopey smile in place. Before anyone could rip into any presents, Ros waved her hand to send the presents flying into piles in front of each person.

As the rest of the children started opening presents, Hermione sat back, just looking around the room. She smiled to herself. This was the first time she had spent a Christmas with her whole family. The previous two years she had woken up with Katie jumping on her bed, and seen the others during the day. But they had never all woken up together. And Hermione had definitely never spent a Christmas before Hogwarts with anyone but her parents. It was never sad, and she had always gotten the books she wanted, but looking back on it, it was a little lonely. 

The last Christmas she spent with the Grangers, they were distant. It was robotic, almost. Like they were only going through the motions. 

Hermione didn’t even realise she was silently crying until she felt Maribel wrap her up in a hug. Ros moved over, looking a lot more awake, to wipe away the tears on her face. 

“What’s wrong ‘Mione?” Ros asked quietly. Hermione flicked her eyes over the room, quickly becoming self-conscious when she noticed everybody had stopped unwrapping presents to look at her.

“Spiralled a little,” Hermione admitted shyly. It was a well known fact in the family that Christmas was always a struggle for Hermione. She wasn’t the only one that struggled - Katie spends the anniversary of her mother's death visiting her grave with Ros all day. Eve avoids Easter, and Amy hates Halloween. Everyone struggled at some point within the year.

“That’s alright,  _ ma cherie _ ,” Maribel comforted. “We all have these days. It happens.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione mumbled. “I don’t want to ruin Christmas for everyone.”

“You’re not ruining it,” Eve said sternly. “We all help each other out.”

Evan jumped in as well, “yeah ‘Mione, there’s nothing wrong with struggling.”

Hermione nodded slightly, letting Ros clean her face with a towel she conjured. “I’m still sorry guys,” she said duly.

“Nonsense,” Ros smiled at her. “Nothing to apologise for. It’s just one of those days - completely normal.”

Hermione gave her family a small smile. “I’m okay, can I have a present please?” Hermione asked quietly, moving so Ros could settle on her other side.

“Here you go,” Katie called, throwing a present over. Hermione’s smile grew as she started carefully unwrapping her pile of presents.

As they all finished unwrapping their presents, Ros snuck out of the room, leaving Maribel to corral them all into tidying. Hermione placed her presents into her bag, carefully sniffing the Chocolate Frogs Ron had given her, to make sure they weren’t kept with the Dungbombs he gave to Harry. Harry had given her a book on defensive Charms, remembering her mentioning it earlier in the year.

She had received a few books, some new notebooks, and clothes from her siblings. Maribel had given the girls new dresses, for the Yule Ball tonight, and gave the boys new dress robes. 

Ros had given everyone a wand holster, which can be turned invisible against the arm. They were also enchanted to not allow the wand to be summoned whilst holstered by another person. (“I was going to get you all throwing knives, but Mari told me off”)

Ros appeared back in the Room once they had tidied, carrying bottles in her arms. A table appeared in the middle, which Ros deposited them on. They crowded around, Maribel leveling a glare at her wife.

“Rhosmari,” Maribel said evenly. “What is this?”

“Bucks Fizz!” Ros, to her credit, only winced a little at the use of her name. “It’s traditional, we have it every year darling.”

“ _ Oui _ . We have it. Not the children,” Maribel’s glare didn’t waver.

“Pish posh,” Ros waved her wife off. “You’re French, you’ve been having wine since you were like six years. They can have one glass.”

Amy was staring at the bottles, confused. “Champagne and orange juice?” She asked.

“Yeah!” Ros quickly turned away from Maribel, although did wrap her arms around her. “Mix it together, it's a traditional drink with Christmas breakfast, but I think Albus would kill me if I let you drink it in the Hall.”

“I think McGonagall will still kill all of us,” Luke muttered to Eddie, who nodded.

“Fine,” Maribel relented. “One glass. No more. Then I’m sure you all need to go get breakfast before the Hall fills up.”

Katie cheered, watching as Ros waved her hand to pour the glasses out. Once they all held their glasses, Ros spoke again.

“I love you all, so much. No matter where we came from, we’re a family, and we love you all. To family.”

They all chorused back a “love you”, sipping at their drinks experimentally. Evan immediately pulled a face, pushing his glass away, followed by Luke. Maribel giggled at them all, her previous anger at Ros disappearing. 

After some of them had managed to finish their drinks, they were ushered out of the Room. Hermione made a mental note of the Room, hoping to use it again at some point. Katie followed her back to the Gryffindor Common Room, to deposit their presents. Hermione grabbed a final present from her bed, hoping to see Fleur at breakfast. She had given Claire, Alexander, and Gabby their presents yesterday, but wanted to give this one personally.

“ _ Bonjour, _ and Merry Christmas!” Claire and Alexander called to the two Gryffindors, as they walked into the Entrance Hall. 

Hermione and Katie called back a “Merry Christmas” as well. They had only just started to walk over to them, when Hermione doubled over, a small blonde attached to her legs.

“‘Appy Christmas ‘Mi!” The young blonde said happily. “ _ Thank you for the present! I said that good, yes _ ?” 

“Yes Gabby,” Hermione said softly, kneeling down to pull her into a hug. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

“Gabrielle Delacour!  _ You stop running off otherwise I will tell Mum to bring you home _ !” Fleur’s voice rang out, as she panted to a stop next to the small group. Gabrielle’s eyes widened dramatically, clinging closer to Hermione.

“We did tell you to leave wiz us, Fleur,” Claire sang teasingly.

“Our little Gabby always knows w’en ‘Ermione ees coming,” Alexander continued playfully.

Fleur flushed slightly, not having realised that the other two were there as well. “ _ Bonjour and Merry Christmas _ .”

“Merry Christmas, Fleur,” Katie replied, before spotting the Weasley Twins walking past. “I’ll see you all later!” She ran off to join the twins walking in for breakfast.

“We will find somew’ere to zit,” Claire said, pulling Alexander and Gabby along.

“Merry Christmas Fleur,” Hermione said softly, leading them into one of the free rooms off the Entrance Hall. “I have your present here, I’m sorry I didn’t give you yours before.”

“ _ Non _ , eet ees okay, ‘Ermione,” Fleur responded, her face flushed pink slightly still. “I ‘ave yours ‘ere too.”

They passed their presents over, but Hermione felt slightly awkward as Fleur held the present in her hands. She had worried for ages about the present, not sure what to get her girlfriend. Hannah had sent her some advice, which was followed quickly by a letter from Martin and Lily to ignore what the other girl had said, and go with something else in the end.

Hermione jumped slightly when Fleur pulled her closer for a kiss. When the older girl pulled back, Hermione followed to sneak another kiss. Which turned into another, and another. They finally pulled away, breathless, lips swollen slightly. They grinned at each other.

“I ‘ave wanted to do zat all morning,  _ mon amour _ ,” Fleur whispered, pressing their foreheads together. “Presents now?”

“Yeah,” Hermione panted. “Yeah, presents, sure.”

Hermione fiddled with the present Fleur had given her, watching carefully as Fleur inspected her own one. She looked away as Fleur finally removed the wrapping, only looking back as she heard a gasp.

“Eet ees beautiful, ‘Ermione,” Fleur mumbled, staring at the clear box. Suspended in the middle, two glass figures sat under a tree by a lake “Zat ees us,  _ oui _ ? At ze Lake?” 

“Yeah,” Hermione blushed, watching the figures move. “I got a lot of help with it.”

“I love eet,  _ j’adore _ ,” Fleur smiled softly, turning her attention to Hermione. They moved together for another chaste kiss, Fleur still carefully holding the case.

“I was so nervous,” Hermione admitted shyly.

“Eet ees perfect.  _ Just like you mon amour _ ,” the French witch’s attention turned to the present Hermione still held. “Now, open yours!”

Hermione bit her lip, ripping carefully at the wrapping. Fleur had moved closer, placing her box on a table, and rested her head on Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione pulled a brown backpack from the wrapping, running her hands over the scaly fabric.

“Eet ees dragonhide,” Fleur explained quickly. “Undetectable extension charm, feazerlight, compartments for ink, quills, books, and w’atever else you need to use eet for. Impervious to spells too.”

“Fleur it’s brilliant,” Hermione breathed out. The Gryffindor moved to pull Fleur in for a kiss, enjoying the warmth that rushed from every kiss the two shared.

“Eet ees nozing,  _ mon amour _ , I do not want you to ‘urt your back carrying all zose books! Look inzide eet.”

Hermione complied, reaching into the bag, fingers clasping around a box. She pulled it out carefully, and with Fleur’s encouragement, she opened it up. Hermione gasped at the silver necklace resting inside. Fleur reached over, dangling the delicate chain on one finger. A diamond swung carelessly, carved into a silver heart charm. Engraved on the diamond was a crest that Hermione didn’t recognise.

Sentences from  _ The Book of Veela _ passed fleetingly through Hermione’s head.  _ Veela’s will present their mate with a golden necklace, akin to a wizarding wedding ring, with the Veela’s family crest on. If the two mates are Veela’s, the crest should be that of the other mate, and vice versa. If the mate wears the necklace, Veela’s will recognise the promise to another. _

“Fleur that’s - this is - I mean,” Hermione stumbled over her words.

“Eet ees not like zat, my ‘Ermione,” Fleur said softly, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s temple. “I know w’at ze book says, but zis ees not zat. Eet ees a promise, to you. Zat I will always be yours. I only ‘ope zat one day, you will let me turn zis golden. Until zen, eet ees not a commitment. You do not need to wear eet, if you do not want,  _ ma chérie _ .”

Hermione just stared at the necklace, still dangling from Fleur’s finger. “No, no I want to, Fleur, I just -” Hermione stopped herself, gnawing on her bottom lip. “I want this. I want you, Fleur. I’m sorry, I just panicked.”

Fleur pressed another kiss to Hermione’s temple, chuckling softly against her skin. “I am ze zorry one, I did not want to presume -”

“Put it on me?” Hermione interrupted, turning to face the elder witch fully. “Please?”

Fleur swallowed nervously, but nodded all the same. “If you are zure?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly, lifting her hair up. Fleur’s hands were steady as she clasped the thin chain around Hermione’s neck, letting the charm rest over her heart. “It’s so warm,” Hermione observed, running a finger over the charm.

Fleur’s face flushed slightly, stroking Hermione’s face gently. “Eet ees because I am ‘ere.”

“So it’s like my personal Fleur tracker?” Hermione teased, tearing her eyes away from the glinting jewel.

“I zuppose zo,” Fleur admitted, pulling Hermione in for another kiss, giggling against each other's lips.

“So what are you doing with your hair?” Katie asked Hermione, who was sitting in front of the mirror. Hermione and Fleur had stayed in the free room, kissing, until Claire, Alexander, and Gabby burst in. Hermione had escaped quickly, ignoring Claire and Alexander shouting after her.

Hermione was pretty sure that Fleur would not forgive her for leaving her with them. Ever.

“What would work best?” Hermione asked. They had spent the last two hours waiting for a Sleezy’s hair potion to smooth Hermione’s hair, and Katie had just deemed it manageable. 

Katie hummed, lifting a portion of hair up. “I think I’ve got an idea. Are you wearing that necklace?”

Hermione’s hand went to her necklace, fiddling with the charm. “Yeah, does it go with the dress?”

“Obviously,” Katie drawled, placing pins in Hermione’s hair. “Silver and blue work well together. Never thought I’d ever see you so girly ‘Mione.”

“I can be sometimes,” Hermione defended, a playful smile on her face. “And who better to help me than my sister, right?”

Katie grinned at her in the mirror, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. After a few more minutes, the older girl proclaimed that Hermione was done.

“I thought you were going to rip it out at one point,” Hermione teased.

Katie clutched her hand to her chest. “Why I would never! Now come on, help me with my makeup, and then dresses!”

An hour later, and the two girls finally descended into the Common Room. Katie had made Hermione do laps around the dorms, until she could walk in her heels.

“Gorgeous as always ladies,” George called, offering Katie his arm. “Fred and Angelina have already gone down.”

“Thought we would all walk in together?” Katie asked, fiddling with the hem of her golden dress.

George offered Hermione his other arm as they excited the portrait. “Angelina complained you were taking too long, and Fred wanted to get a good seat for everyone. So ‘Mione, you nervous? Taking the most gorgeous witch to the Ball?” He teased.

Hermione tightened her grip slightly on George’s arm. She took a couple of deep breaths before replying. “I think it’s her taking me, to be honest.”

“Either way, you’re one lucky witch,” George winked at her. Then blanched at the look on Katie’s face. “And I’m a lucky wizard, alright. I’m taking the hottest girl from Hogwarts, who holds no candle against Hermione’s date, no sir. I’ll sing my love for you from the Astronomy Tower -”

Katie giggled, slapping George playfully on the arm. “Right you rotter, you got your point across.”

Hermione paused just around the corner from the last staircase, trying to slow her heart down. 

“You alright there ‘Mione?” Katie asked worriedly. Both witches had let go of George’s arms, Katie peering at Hermione.

“I’m good, just nervous I think,” Hermione replied quietly. “You two go ahead, I’ll be down in a moment.”

The two older Gryffindors looked at each other quickly, before nodding. Katie pressed a kiss to Hermione’s forehead, whispering encouragement. George, rather dramatically, placed a kiss to Hermione’s hand, before offering Katie his arm again.

As soon as they went down the stairs, Hermione placed a finger against the necklace. She finally calmed down when she felt how warm it had gotten. Taking a last deep breathe, she stepped round the corner, eyes flicking over the crowd to find her date. 


	19. Yule Ball and The Afterparty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally at the Yule Ball - enjoy!  
> Anything in italics is in French

Hermione’s breath caught, again, in her throat as she found Fleur’s piercing blue eyes. Smiling softly at her, Hermione continued down the staircase, focused completely on her witch. Fleur looked stunning in a silver dress that clung to her frame. Her hair was pulled into a braid, resting over her shoulder.

Fleur met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes raking over Hermione’s outfit. Maribel had given Hermione a periwinkle blue dress, that clung around the top half, before flaring away.

“ _ You look beautiful, mon amour _ ,” Fleur whispered reverently, peppering kisses to the back of Hermione’s hands.

Hermione giggled, her nerves disappearing slightly. “ _ Have you looked in a mirror recently, darling _ ?”

“You need to talk French more,” Fleur sighed, eyes still fixated on Hermione in wonder.

“If that’s what you want,  _ ma chérie, _ ” Hermione pressed a small kiss to Fleur’s reddened cheek, pulling back with a smile. Fleur, shaken out of her brief stupor, leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Hermione’s lips.

Fleur grinned as they pulled away, entwining their arms together. Hermione managed to say hello to a dumbstruck Harry and his date Parvati, as Fleur pulled them towards the closed doors. By now, it was only the Champions and their dates left in the Entrance Hall.

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said sternly (although Hermione could see a smile pulling at her lips.) “So happy you decided to join us, you and Miss Delacour at the front, I think.”

Fleur pressed a calming kiss to Hermione’s temple as they stood in line. “ _ Breathe, mon amour, you look perfect. _ ”

Hermione nodded, gnawing at her lip nervously. “ _ You are wonderful, how did I ever get so lucky? _ ”

“ _ I am the lucky one. Don’t make your lip bleed again, we will be okay, I promise. Head high, mon  _ _ trésor. _ ”

Hermione nodded, titling her chin up proudly. In sync, the two led the Champions into the Great Hall, to the applause of the other students. Hermione could swear one of the Weasley twins wolf-whistled as they passed, but didn’t dare turn to look at which one. 

The walls of the Hall were covered in sparkling silver frost, with mistletoe and ivy floating around the starry sky. Instead of the 5 long tables, there were hundreds of circular ones, each with around a dozen seats around, and a lantern in the middle. 

Hermione was brought out of her musings when her and Fleur approached the Champions table. Her eyes flicked over it, giving a small smile to Ros and Maribel, who were standing next to Madame Maxime. Ros was in a set of silk dress robes, matching with Maribel’s dark blue dress. Professors Karkaroff, Dumbledore, and Ludo Bagman also stood around the table. To Hermione’s surprise, Percy Weasley was also standing there, making an eager motion towards Harry.

Madame Maxime greeted both Fleur and Hermione warmly, leaning in to give them both a kiss on the cheeks. Fleur gracefully pulled out Hermione’s chair for her, enjoying the blush that spread across the Gryffindor’s cheeks. Hermione missed the encouraging wink that Ros sent Fleur - however, she did catch Maribel slapping Ros lightly on the arm when her own chair was not pulled out for her.

“Eet ees a pleasure to zee you again, Mademoiselle Granger,” Madame Maxime said jovially. “I ‘ope you ‘ave not been scared away from ze Carriage? Ze students treat you good?”

Hermione smiled at the Headmistresses warmly. “Not at all, Madame Maxime. It’s so beautiful there. And everyone is always very welcoming.” Hermione ignored Ros’s pointed cough.

“Would you expect anyzing less from Beauxbatons?” Fleur asked teasingly.

“Of course not,  _ mon coeur _ ,” Hermione teased back.

Their attention was pulled away by Dumbledore, who had called “Pork Chops!” at his plate. Hermione’s eyes widened slightly as it appeared on his plate, and spent a second glancing around the table to see others following his lead.

Hermione grinned slightly as she was pulled back into the conversation by Fleur and Madame Maxime. Ros and Maribel seemed to be engrossed with Dumbledore, who was talking about socks.

“Per’aps you could come visit over ze summer,  _ oui _ ?” Maxime asked Hermione.

“I would love to,” Hermione replied eagerly. She had previously had the Academy described to her, but nothing would beat seeing it in person. “I’ll have to speak to Maribel and Ros though.”

“I suppose we could do another family visit to France?” Maribel chimed in, grinning at them. “Anything to convince you to leave Hogwarts for Beauxbatons!”

“Ah!” Maxime exclaimed happily. “I knew I could get one of your children to Beauxbatons!”

Maribel grinned back, placing a quick kiss to Ros’s cheek. Fleur took the opportunity to put a bit of her bouillabaisse onto the younger girls’ plate.

“Eet ees a wonderful palace,” Fleur smiled at Hermione. “We ‘ave giant ice sculptures in ze winter, and ze food ees to die for, not zis heavy Eenglish food.”

“But you need this food to survive this castle,” Hermione teased back. Fleur hummed in agreement, raking her eyes suggestively over Hermione, before throwing her a wink. With the brief lull in the conversation (and to clear the blush on her cheeks) Hermione glanced around the Hall. She caught some of her siblings eyes, giving each one a smile. 

“‘Ere,” Fleur whispered quietly to Hermione. “Try zis wine, eet ees a lovely white.” A glass was pushed into her hand.

“Fleur!” Hermione whispered back, eyes widening, but did keep hold of the glass.

“One zip, eet ees almost as good as you,” Fleur winked.

Shaking her head at Fleur, Hermione did take a sip of the wine. Fleur giggled as Hermione frowned at the glass. With delicate fingers, Fleur took back her glass.

“Eet ees an learnt taste,  _ mon amour _ ,” Fleur teased, taking a sip herself.

“Of course it is,” Hermione grumbled playfully, gulping at her own drink.

A few moments later Dumbledore stood up, the plates emptying. Almost like it had been rehearsed, the students sitting near the front of the Hall stood up, moving out of the way, tables and chairs flying towards the outskirts. 

To a surprised round of applause, the Weird Sisters trooped onto a stage (which Dumbledore had conjured without anyone realising), settling behind instruments.

“May I ‘ave zis dance,  _ mademoiselle _ ?” Fleur asked Hermione softly, a twinkle in her eyes.

Hermione took Fleur’s outstretched hand with a smile. “ _ Always ma chérie _ .”

“Who’s leading?” Hermione asked once they moved onto the dance floor. She was vaguely aware of the other Champions taking their places - Harry having to be nudged by Parvati.

“I will first, zen we change?” Fleur replied, placing a hand on Hermione’s waist. Hermione nodded, entwining their spare hands together.

Hermione was smiling brightly as Fleur spun them around the room. A laugh burst out when Fleur lifted Hermione, her hands steady. With a nod to each other, they both took a step back, and with the next beat, moved forwards again. This time, Hermione led the dance. It was not as effortless as Fleur’s lead, although Hermione would adamantly blame that on the French witch having an advantage of learning as a child.

The pair had noticed a few more couples dancing on the floor - Filch dancing with his cat Mrs Norris stuck out particularly in Hermione’s mind. When the song ended, the pair joined the applause, smiling broadly at each other.

As the Weird Sisters started another song, this one faster, Fleur and Hermione joined together again to dance, twirling around the floor. They passed by Amy and Roger Davies, the former winking at Hermione. Claire and Alexander, dressed in matching red outfits, also danced by them, whistling suggestively.

“May we cut in?” Ros called over, grinning at the pair. At their nods, Fleur spun away with Maribel, whilst Ros offered Hermione her hand.

As Ros twirled Hermione around, they grinned at each other. “I take it you’re enjoying the Ball, ‘Mione?” Ros asked, eyeing Hermione’s flushed face.

“It’s brilliant,” Hermione breathed back, “and you?”

“Maribel is being a pain as usual,” Ros winked. “But otherwise, she is gushing over how cute all of us look.”

“Maybe we should take a photo later? Our family together?” Hermione asked, giggling as Ros dipped her towards the floor.

“That’d be lovely,” Ros grinned. “How is Fleur treating you?”

“Perfect. She’s perfect Ros,” Hermione smiled wistfully. “Absolute gentlewoman.” Then Hermione had a thought, feeling her necklace grow colder slightly as Fleur and Maribel went further away. “Ros, did Maribel give you a necklace?”

Ros smiled gently at Hermione, eyes flicking down to the silver chain around her neck. Freeing one hand, Ros reached into her collar, pulling out a gold necklace. Unlike Hermione’s one, there was a larger gold pendant on her chain, engraved with the Beaufort family crest. Ingrained along the outer ring, diamonds alternated with sapphires. 

“Maribel gave it to me on our third date - after she admitted she was a veela,” Ros explained, letting the necklace rest against her robes, rather than underneath her collar again. “Every veela family has a slightly different necklace, but they unite under a few different bigger flocks. So most of the European veela’s unite under one flock for example. However, the gold or silver colours are the same across all families.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, brain working over the new information. Ros chuckled at her, shaking her head slightly. “It’s best to let Fleur explain all the finer details. I’m sure you’ll have to visit and meet everyone over the summer anyway.”

“What?” Hermione asked, suddenly nervous. “I’ve met Fleur’s family - well not her father, but still -”

“No no, you are the mate of a veela,” Ros laughed, “you’ll be introduced to the majority of the flock.” Ros seemed lost in thought for a minute, then pouted. “Bugger. That’ll mean Mari and I will have to go. Family holiday again indeed. Maribel  _ planned _ this, I swear.”

“Is it bad?” Hermione asked cautiously, studying Ros’s face.

Ros’s eyes widened, shaking her head quickly. “No, not bad - just - veela are very affectionate. If you think about how much Brigitte was touchy-feely, then picture a lot more veela.”

Hermione gulped, eyes widening at the image. Ros laughed at her, drawing a few looks. “Honestly ‘Mione, don’t panic - enjoy tonight. I’m sure Fleur will talk to you about it after the break.” Maribel and Fleur were starting to head back over towards them, Fleur looking concerned at Hermione. “If I can get through it, you’ll be alright. Veela will take any excuse to throw a party!”

“Everything okay here?” Maribel asked, her smile getting bigger as she looked at Ros’s necklace.

“Everything’s good, love,” Ros replied smoothly, throwing a wink towards Hermione. “Shall we swap? Fleur?”

“ _ Oui _ , ‘Ermione you do not mind?” Fleur said, still looking a bit concerned.

“Yeah, that’s alright,” Hermione smiled, letting out a breath, she hadn’t realised she was holding, when Fleur’s face lost any concern written on it.

Maribel quickly started a waltz with Hermione, leaving Ros to graciously offer Fleur her arm and dance away.

“What did my wife say to you?” Maribel questioned, letting Hermione lead.

“We were just talking about the necklaces,” Hermione replied, smiling at Maribel’s brief faraway look. “And then we got talking about meeting the flock?”

Maribel snorted, a rare unladylike sight from the witch. “Ignore her, you don’t need to worry about that. She just doesn’t like all of them doting on her. But I am happy to see you wear Fleur’s necklace - she was quite worried about it after all.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Hermione said quietly. Maribel smiled sweetly at her.

“Did Fleur explain it?” Maribel asked gently.

“Yeah, yeah she did. A promise. It’s a commitment,” Hermione repeated.

“She won’t ever force you into anything, okay?” Maribel prompted the younger girl.

“I know Maribel,” Hermione sarcastically drawled. “She’s absolutely perfect.”

“Perfect enough to give you wine,” Maribel teased back. “Wine that my fifteen year old daughter should not be drinking. At least not in England.”

Hermione’s eyes grew slightly damp at how easily Maribel referred to her as her daughter. “Hogwarts is in Scotland.”

Maribel smiled softly, moving her hands to cradle Hermione’s face. “Still. Don’t cry  _ ma chérie,  _ it is a happy night, yes?”

Hermione sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. “Yeah, yeah I’m good, sorry.”

“‘Ermione?” Apparently, Fleur and Ros had danced back over to them. “Are you good?”

“Happy tears,” Hermione explained, offering Fleur a smile. It seemed to make a small difference, but Fleur still grasped Hermione’s hand tightly.

“I’ll take my wife off your hands girls,” Ros explained, pulling Maribel into her arms with a grin. “We’ll round everyone up for a photo in a bit?”

At Hermione’s nod, the two Ravenclaw’s spun away, seemingly on a collision course with Luke and his date. 

“Are you good,  _ ma tresor _ ?” Fleur asked again, concern filling her voice. “Per’aps a drink?”

“That’ll be nice,” Hermione suddenly glared at her French witch. “No wine.”

Fleur’s laugh rang out like a twinkling bell, attracting the looks of others around them. “ _ Non _ , no wine for my brave lion.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, leading them away from the floor. Fleur pressed a kiss to Hermione’s cheek, nodding as the younger girl requested a butterbeer.

The Gryffindor grinned dopely to herself watching Fleur walk away. She quickly found, and threw herself (gracefully, in Hermione’s opinion), down next to Harry and Ron. She smiled at Padma as she did so, noting that Parvati had been dragged off by a Beauxbatons boy. Hermione was pretty sure his name was Arthur, but wasn’t sure.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Hi,” Hermione replied, trying to fan herself with her hand. “It’s a bit hot, isn’t it? Fleur’s just gone to get us drinks.”

Harry, upon seeing Ron’s face glower, quickly replied. “Is she behaving?”

Hermione laughed, playfully slapping Harry’s arm. “I’ve told you! She’s perfect.”

Ron grunted from next to her, eye’s firmly fixed on the floor in front of him. “So  _ perfect _ is she?”

Hermione whirled around, glaring at Ron’s tone. “What  _ exactly _ is that meant to mean, Ronald?”

“She’s the  _ enemy _ , Hermione! She’s from Beauxbatons!” Ron finally looked at the glaring witch.

“Don’t be so  _ stupid _ Ronald! She’s Maribel’s niece. She’s  _ family _ . Or did you forget that?”

“You barely know her, you’re not even dating!” Ron approached from a different angle, ignoring Harry’s frantic hand gestures to stop from behind Hermione’s back.

“We’ve been dating for a while, actually,” Hermione spat out, standing up from her seat. “Just because  _ you _ can’t see what’s obvious, don’t take it out on me!”

“She’s right mate,” Harry piped up, his voice growing stronger as he spoke. “Honestly, have you not seen their meal routine? Gabrielle picks her up from class, Fleur drops her off?”

Ron’s jaw slacked open, eyes flicking between the two. “What?”

“I’m pretty sure they kissed at dinner the other week as well,” Padma joined in, examining her nails pointedly. Her glare rivalled Hermione’s when Ron jumped at her voice. “Are you going to ask me to dance or not?”

“What? No?” Ron squeaked, flushing as Padma jumped up and joined her sister.

“Did you?” Harry asked Hermione, who was calming down slightly.

“Did what?” Hermione decided playing dumb was better.

“Kiss Fleur?”

Hermione glaced at Ron, who was still acting like a fish out of water, before replying, sarcasm thick in her voice. “Well yes. Obviously Harry. I’ve kissed her loads.  _ All _ the time.”

Harry’s mouth fell open, and even Ron stilled. “Seriously?” The redhead finally managed to choke out.

“Yes,” Hermione drawled. “We are dating.”

“And everyone - I mean  _ everyone _ knew?” Ron stuttered out.

“We didn’t hide it.” Hermione sighed. “Listen, I’m sorry, we just never thought to announce it. I thought you had worked it out Ron.”

Ron deflated further. “Merlin, Hermione. Does she treat you well?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, internally happy at how well Ron had taken the news. “Yeah, she does.”

“‘Ermione,” Fleur called, passing over the girl’s butterbeer. “Everyzing good ‘ere?”

Hermione smiled sweetly at Fleur, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We’re okay, should we get some air?”

Fleur nodded, the pair saying goodbye to Harry and Ron. The latter was back to staring dumbly at them, Harry dutifully punching his arm.

Hermione gasped as they walked onto the grounds. The courtyard had floating lights, creating a warm glow. On the grassy slopes, more benches were spread out, surrounded by rose bushes, stone statues, and winding oriemental paths leading towards the Carriage and Durmstrang’s ship. As Fleur led them down a path, Hermione heard a few other couples squealing in the bushes.

They stopped by a fountain, perching on the edge. Hermione sipped on her drink, acutely aware of Fleur’s eyes on her.

“You alright Fleur?” Hermione asked gently, noting the darkened edge to Fleur’s eyes.

“ _ Oui _ , you look,” Fleur paused, searching for the right words. “ _ I cannot say it in English, but you look ravishing tonight. More so than usual _ .”

Hermione blushed deeply, placing her bottle on the side. “I said it earlier, I am nothing compared to you.”

Fleur lunged forward, capturing Hermione’s lips hurriedly, her own punch glass rolling to the floor. Hermione gasped at the urgency, but quickly reciprocated, placing her hands around Fleur’s neck, tugging her closer. It was what they were leading up to that very morning. Except there were no interruptions from Claire or Alexander. Or Gabby.

There was a Ros. And a camera.

“Hey lovebirds!” The witch in question shouted, grinning broadly as Hermione buried herself in the blonde’s neck.

“Rhosmari Ravenclaw I swear to Merlin I told you not to interrupt!” Came Maribel’s voice, followed by the sound of repeated slaps against fabric.

“They’re in public! We all got embarrassing photos with our dates! It’s a free game!” Hermione groaned when she heard Amy join the fray.

“Hermione I spent all afternoon on your hair and makeup, you best not ruin it now,” Katie’s stern tone was defeated by the sniggering that followed it.

There was a chorus of voices by the rest of Hermione’s siblings. Hermione made a mental note to buy Eve a thank you gift when she heard the girl side with Maribel.

“Do you think we could sneak away?” Hermione mumbled into Fleur’s neck.

“I zink we could distract zem?” Fleur whispered back, nodding fervently.

“No don’t you dare! Photo first! Then sneaky sneak,” Ros teased, holding up a camera pointedly.

“There will be no sneaky sneak!” Katie called stubbornly. “I want her back in the Common Room by eleven, _ Delacour _ !”

That pulled Hermione from Fleur’s shoulders suddenly, turning to face Katie. “No, absolutely  _ not _ , the Ball doesn’t even end until midnight anyway.”

“You -”

“Stop,” Luke interrupted weakly, sighing at the two Gryffindors. “I have a lovely  _ hot  _ date inside the warm Hall, let's just do this photo and get back to our dates. Please.”

“I will ‘old the camera,” Fleur offered, plucking the camera from Ros’s hands before she could argue. “Per’aps in front of ze fountain?”

“Yes, thank you Fleur,” Maribel said, herding the students into places.

Katie lightly punched Hermione in the arm, who retaliated by pushing the older girl.

“Please,” Luke mumbled, glaring at them. Both Gryffindors stuck their tongues out at him, but complied. 

Ros and Maribel stood in the middle, arms wrapped around each other. Katie had thrown her arms over Hermione and Eve. Eddie jumped onto Evan’s back, who half heartedly complained about ruining his robes. Amy grinned next to Luke, pulling him into a head lock and ruffling his hair.

“Ready?” Fleur asked, holding the camera steady. “Good,  _ dire ouistiti _ !”

“ _ Ouistiti _ ,” the family sung back, blinded temporarily by the flash.

“Right,” Luke said, detangling himself from Amy and flattening his hair. “Hot girl, must rush, terribly sorry. Catch up tomorrow?”

“Alright you rotters,” Ros laughed at the eager faces. “Off you go -  _ behave _ ! I don’t want any letters about you being caught in the bushes!”

“We won’t be caught Ros, don’t worry!” Eve grinned, throwing a wink at the two older witches.

With much grumbling, the family disappeared again, heading back into the Hall. Fleur wrapped her arm around Hermione’s waist as they walked back in, saying a quick hello to Maxime and Hagrid as they passed.

“I think Claire and Alexander want us to come over,” Hermione said to Fleur, motioning to the duo waving them over.

Fleur grumbled under her breath in French, but complied, steering them towards the pair. 

“ _ Bonjour _ !” Claire called jovially, her accent more pronounced. She pressed glasses into their hands. “‘Ermione zat ees red wine, take leetle zips. Do not tell anyone.  _ Fleur we all know you drink wine like water so do whatever _ .”

Fleur rolled her eyes, taking a sip. Hermione eyed her nervously before taking a sip. It wasn’t as bad the wine Fleur had given her - this one was sweeter, rather than crisp.

“‘Ermione,” Alexander began with mock seriousness, his accent as thick as Claires’. “You disappeared very quickly zis morning, ees Fleur not a good kisser?”

“‘Ow dare you,” Fleur said haughtily. “I am a very good kisser, right ‘Ermione?”

Hermione groaned loudly, her face flushing red. She busied herself by taking another sip of the wine, studying the red liquid in the glass.

“How many of these have you had?” Hermione asked instead, eyeing their flushed faces.

Claire waved her hand. “ _ Don’t change the subject. We’re French. We can handle our wine. _ ”

Fleur also peered closer at them. “ _ I didn’t think that wine was a choice after dinner. Only punch or non-alcoholic drinks. _ ”

Hermione’s eyes widened, glancing between the glasses filled with wine they all held, and the two students in front of them. Her eyes dropped to the pockets on Alexander’s robes, studying for signs of expansion charms.

“ _ Ask us no questions, and we tell you no lies _ ?” Alexander questioned. Fleur seemed ready to argue, but Claire quickly pulled her towards the dance floor, jumping around wildly. Alexander followed her lead, dragging Hermione towards the floor as well.

After the first few songs, the Weird Sisters had started playing their popular hits. This had turned the dancing from the traditional waltz’s to more jumping and swaying about. Hermione jumped, barely keeping a hold on her glass, when Fleur grabbed her from behind, pulling them closer.

“ _ Are you okay mon amour _ ?” Fleur’s hot breath tickled Hermione’s ear. Hermione rolled her head back, looking up at the French witch, studying the darkened eyes.

“ _ Never better _ ,” Hermione grinned, acutely aware of how Fleur was pressed against her back.

The quartet had been joined by some of the other Beauxbatons students, all getting their drinks from Alexander. Hermione’s glass was never empty, as whenever it got near the bottom, Alexander would snag it out of her hand, spin dramatically, and pass it back, refilled.

“‘Ermione,” Claire slurred happily, toppling forward into the Gryffindor’s arms. Fleur stiffened for a split second, but began giggling at how unsteady the witch was. “ _ It is almost the end of the Ball, Fleur needs to take you back to the Carriage before the teachers realise _ !”

“ _ Oui _ ,” Alexander joined in, leaning against another student. Hermione realised with a gulp that most of the Beauxbatons students around them were nodding at Fleur and herself. “ _ Go Fleur, we’ll distract the teachers _ !”

Hermione glanced between Fleur and the rest of students, a frown on her face. Claire stumbled backwards, grabbing another girl and wandering away from the crowd.

“ _ Go, sneak her in _ ,” Alexander prompted, making a shooing motion with his hands.

Fleur spun Hermione around, giggling softly, and led them out of the Hall. Claire and Angelique were talking to McGonagall in the Entrance Hall, ensuring that the latter had her back to the doors.

Hermione giggled along with Fleur, both their faces flushed red. They stumbled down the path to the Carriage, arms wrapped tightly around each other. With a grand flourish, Fleur opened the door to the Carriage, offering Hermione a steady arm to get up the steps.

When they entered, Hermione took one look at the stairs, and settled onto the couch, pulling Fleur down with her. The blonde witch smirked, settling herself in Hermione’s lap, arms flung over her shoulders. Hermione swallowed nervously, wrapping her arms around Fleur’s waist.

“ _ Stay here with me tonight _ ?” Fleur asked, pressing kisses into Hermione’s neck. The Gryffindor’s face flushed even further, rolling her head to the side.

“Is that okay?” Hermione breathed out.

“ _ Oui _ , zat ees why zey told us to come back early,” Fleur frowned briefly, before pulling a lopsided smile. “ _ Also we are having an afterparty, and you’re invited. _ ”

Hermione frowned at Fleur, her eyes narrowing. “ _When were you going to tell me_ _about that_?”

Fleur grinned apologetically, “ _ right now? You don’t have to stay if you really don’t want to. _ ”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. The small walk to the Carriage had mostly cleared her head from the wine. “No, that’s fine, just lend me clothes?”

Fleur’s grin was huge, nodding eagerly. “ _ Oui oui oui _ ,  _ of course, oui _ .” She rained kisses over the English witch’s face, pulling them even closer together.

Just a few moments later, the rest of the Beauxbaton delegation piled into the Carriage, cooing over the pair on the couch. Angelique immediately turned on a radio, blasting French pop songs. Alexander disappeared briefly, reappearing with bottles of wine, beers, and Hermione was sure she saw a few muggle spirits.

“ _ We are all of age ‘Ermione _ ,” Fleur whispered against her neck, noting the discouraging look on her face. “ _ I can get you juice _ ?”

Hermione shook her head, a part of her not wanting the blonde to get off her.

“ _ Well aren't you both so cute _ !” Claire exclaimed, throwing herself next to them. She had pulled her hair out of the bun, and her heels had been kicked away. 

“ _ Where is Gabby _ ?” Hermione asked, the music blaring even louder.

“ _ She’s asleep in her room _ ,” Fleur shrugged, plucking Claire’s wine glass out of her hands and taking a swig. “ _ I put a silencing charm around it, and we made sure to tire her out earlier _ .”

Claire glared at Fleur, trying to swipe back her glass. “ _ That’s my one, get your own _ !”

“ _ Non _ ,” Fleur stuck out her tongue.

Claire grumbled, summoning a bottle of wine from the side. She took a sip from the bottle and offered it to Hermione. The Gryffindor shrugged, taking a gulp from the bottle as well.

“ _ Shall we dance _ ?” Fleur asked, pulling Hermione up towards the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the Carriage.

Hermione fully relaxed, her head spinning slightly, as she danced with the Beauxbaton students. She got dragged into several drinking games, with Fleur attached at her hip. They had snagged their own wine bottle, forgoing glasses. The veela refused to share the bottle when Hermione stumbled, forcing the girl to have some water and pastries, before being allowed little sips again.

At one point, not long after the games had begun, Madame Maxime walked in. She looked around the room, the music had been hastily turned off. She sighed, Hermione managing to make out the redness of her eyes, before telling them they would not be allowed out tomorrow if they were hungover.

Arthur quickly turned the music back on when Maxime walked into her room, cheers echoing around the room. Alexander was sitting on a couch, feeding Claire strawberries.

Fleur spotted the pair first, nudging Hermione and nodding in their direction. “ _ They’ve been dancing around each other for the past seven years _ .”

Hermione giggled, now holding Fleur up as the older girl stumbled over her words. “ _ We can interrupt them instead now _ !”

“ _ Perhaps we could sneak away first, as they’re distracted _ ?” Fleur’s face was flushed, grinning broadly, tugging at Hermione’s waist and pulling them towards the stairs.

Hermione laughed, following Fleur up the stairs, and into her room. Hermione suddenly seemed really nervous, her head fuzzy. “Fleur - I -”

“ _ Non _ ,” Fleur interrupted softly, moving them both towards the bed. “ _ Just sleeping, okay? It’s quite late, there’s no expectations _ .”

Hermione sighed in relief, looking apologetically at the blonde witch. “I’m sorry, I just - I had assumed, and I know others do it and -”

Fleur leaned in, giving Hermione a chaste kiss to cut her off. “Do not apologise ‘Ermione. I ‘ave ‘ad a leetle too much to drink, and I am zorry for making you feel like you ‘ad to do zomezing we are  _ both _ not ready for  _ ma chérie _ .”

The Gryffindor felt hot tears sting her cheeks, and she ducked her head.

“Do not cry  _ mon tresor _ ,” Fleur chided gently, wiping them away. “I will  _ never _ force you into anyzing, and zat I promise.”

“I’m sorry, I’m being silly really. It’s been such a lovely night, and now I’m here crying and ruining it,” Hermione pressed her forehead against Fleur’s.

“Eet still ees a good night my ‘Ermione,” Fleur whispered back. “Let’s get changed, and get into bed,  _ oui _ ?”

Hermione nodded, smiling as Fleur stood up and locked the door. “Zey will not disturb us in ze morning,” she explained.

The brown haired witch sat down at Fleur’s desk, and began pulling the pins out of her hair. At some point, Sleezy’s potion had started to wear off, and most of it had fallen out anyway. Silently, Fleur appeared behind her, placing a bowl of warm water and cloth down, before taking over the removal of pins.

“As nice as that hairstyle was, the potion was far too much effort to do again,” Hermione said, washing off her makeup.

“I like your ‘air ‘ow eet ees,” Fleur admitted, running her fingers through the curls. “Eet ees like you,  _ mon amour _ , wild and untameable.  _ And when you’re particularly emotional, it charges up, like static. _ ”

Hermione blushed, letting the cloth fall back into the bowl. Fleur worked through a few knots, humming as she went. Once she was done, the French witch offered Hermione a potion. Noticing her confused face, Fleur explained.

“Eet ees a ‘angover potion. You did not drink a lot, but eet will stop any chance of ‘eadaches in ze morning. I imagine a lot of zem will not take eet tonight.”

“Thank you  _ ma chérie _ ,” Hermione said, downing the potion in one. She grimaced at the bitter taste, remembering her brief study into making potions taste nicer.

By the time Hermione had put the potion back down, Fleur had dug through her wardrobe. She held up an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts, biting her lip. “Ees zis okay? I can transfigure zomezing else if you want?”

“No, no they’re fine,” Hermione said quickly, striding over to grab the clothes. She turned her back to Fleur, and motionned to her zipper. “Can you?”

She missed the blush that adorned Fleur’s face, and the darkening of her eyes. Instead, Hermione felt delicate fingers pull the zipper, a light caress at each inch of exposed skin. An involuntary shiver shot down the Gryffindor’s spine. Hermione swallowed, turning to face Fleur, the straps of her dress ensuring her front was covered. As Hermione lent forward, Fleur shook her head violently.

“ _ Non _ ,” the French witch said quietly, her eyes black, and downcast. “ _ I need to calm down, I’m sorry _ .  _ The veela - _ ”

Hermione took a step back, smiling gently. “It’s okay, I’ll get changed in the bathroom, take your time.”

Fleur shook her head again, although not as violently. “I will, I need to clean my face. I will only be a minute.”

The bushy-haired witch kept her smile, pressing a chaste kiss to Fleur’s cheek. “Take your time.”

The veela nodded stiffly, moving into the bathroom in long strides. Hermione sighed, suddenly feeling really sleepy. She pulled on the shirt, grinning at the Beauxbatons Quidditch logo that was imprinted on it. Once changed, Hermione neatly folded her dress over the chair, heels neatly underneath, then moved onto the bed. Her wand holster came off next, the invisibility glamour sliding off once removed. 

By the time the younger witch was awkwardly settled on top of the covers, Fleur came out of her bathroom. She looked a lot calmer, her eyes back to the piercing blue that Hermione could easily get lost in. Fleur smiled at the sight of her witch, looking adorable in the oversized clothes.

“You need to get in ze covers to sleep,  _ mon amour _ ,” Fleur teased, slipping under the covers next to her. “ _ No expectations. Besides the hangover I may have in the morning. Just don’t ever tell my mother. _ ”

“I know,” Hermione grumbled, joining Fleur under the covers. “And I won’t tell on you, you’ll regret it enough on your own.”

Fleur grinned dopely, tugging Hermione into laying down. “I will accept zat. Now turn over, I will be ze big spoon.”

Hermione blushed, placing a kiss to Fleur’s lips quickly, before obliging. The veela hummed as she wrapped her arms around Hermione, pressing their bodies together. They fell asleep quickly, grins plastered on both their faces, Hermione’s necklace comfortably warm against her neck.


	20. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter (especially after the last one!) but it is our favourite Beauxbaton students dealing with the aftermath of their afterparty!
> 
> Anything in italics is in French, and there is a lot of it in this chapter!
> 
> Enjoy

Hermione woke up on Boxing Day morning by someone settling over her legs. 

Fleur had been right last night - Claire and Alexander would not be disturbing them in the morning.

It was Gabrielle.

With a groan, she tried to sit up, knocking into a body still pressed tight against her side. 

“ _It’s too early, go back to sleep_ ,” the blonde next to her moaned, tightening her hold on the English witch.

“ _Non_ !” Gabby exclaimed, rocking up and down excitedly. “ _You promised to build snowmen with me today, and you didn’t tell me ‘Mi was staying over! We could have all had a sleepover!_ ”

Fleur just groaned louder, pressing her head further into her pillow. 

“Morning to you both,” Hermione said groggily, although there was amusement lacing her tone.

“ _Gabby go away, I’m tired_ ,” the blonde lump in bed grumbled, a free hand weakly trying to push her sister away.

“ _A lot of students are still in their Ball clothes, sleeping in the main room_ ,” Gabby said matter-of-factly to Hermione, ignoring the persistent pushing. “ _And it smells funny. Like the house does after one of mum’s parties_.”

Hermione just nodded, managing to translate half the sentences being said. It seemed enough to appease Gabrielle, who had redirected her attention to getting Fleur out of bed.

“ _I’m going to tell mum you were drinking_ ,” Gabby sang, grinning victoriously when Fleur stiffened.

That grin slid off her face when Fleur shot up, glaring hard at her younger sister. “ _And I’ll tell mum about all the chaos you’ve caused here, you little_ -”

“ _I have done nothing_!” Gabby exclaimed, her eyes darting about.

“ _Oh yeah_ ?” Fleur countered, her hair disheveled. Hermione noted it wasn’t unlike the state of her own hair. On a normal day. “ _What about the explosions? Or trying to set the little dragon figure on other students_?”

“ _Blaze did that by himself_!”

“Blaze?” Hermione asked, sitting up after having been pushed by Fleur.

“Ze dragon from ze first task,” Fleur explained, thankfully switching to English, although her accent was significantly thicker this morning. “We got to keep ze figure version, zat Gabby zen took from my room and named eet Blaze.”

“‘E ees very bad,” Gabby added as her explanation. 

Hermione nodded, picking up her wand from it’s holster and checking the time. Fleur snarled at the offending numbers, glaring at her sister.

“ _It is half eight in the morning Gabrielle_!” The blonde shrieked, lunging forward to grab the younger girl. “ _You better explain why you woke us up_ _otherwise I am going to kill you_!”

Gabby quickly moved off the bed, watching wide eyed as Fleur stood up and looked for her wand. “ _I woke up! And I was bored! And you promised to play!”_

_“You have five seconds before I send you home in a matchbox!”_ Fleur growled, finally locating her wand and lunging over the bed. Gabrielle screamed, sprinting from the room.

To her credit, Fleur counted to three. 

And then chased after the girl, both shouting in French.

Hermione sighed, resting her head against the headboard. She winced when she heard more shouting, clearly they had woken up whoever was still downstairs. The Gryffindor waited a few more minutes before finally dragging herself to the bathroom. She winced again as she caught a look at the state of her hair in the mirror.

The very bushy haired witch decided against trying to sort her hair, just throwing it up in a ponytail instead. Hermione quickly cast a charm to clean her teeth, before heading back out into the bedroom.

Hermione paused in the doorway, watching as Claire, still in her red dress, half crawled to one of the drawers. She blindly dug through the bottom drawer, pulling out a potion and downing it.

“You okay there Claire?” Hermione asked, grinning when the girl jumped.

“‘Ermione,” Claire grumbled. _“It is too bright, turn the lights off.”_

_“That is the sun,”_ Hermione said, somewhat enjoying how hungover the witch was. _“Did you have too much last night?”_

Claire grumbled at her, laying down on the floor. _“I am French. There is never too much wine.”_

Hermione snorted, moving back to the bed. “Being French doesn’t seem to be helping this morning. Did Gabby and Fleur wake you up?”

_“Non, non, you’re not hungover, you speak French today,”_ Claire moaned, clawing her way onto the bed. _“But yes, they did, and about half the delegation who were still in the main room. She’s being shouted at right now.”_

She couldn’t help the flicker of amusement at the situation. Whilst she would have much preferred waking up later, and without Gabby, it was still a fun start to the day.

The bedroom door flung open, Alexander stumbling through. _“Potion?”_ he asked, collapsing next to Claire on the bed. Hermione giggled at the state of his dress robes, but quickly jumped up, grabbing one from the drawer and passing it over. 

_“Ah thank you ‘Ermione,”_ he said, sipping at the vial. _“Much better, back to bed I think.”_ A hand shot out and yanked the Gryffindor to lay down on his other side, grinning to himself as he curled an arm around Claire. 

_“I do the nice thing and give you both potions so you take my girlfriend to bed?”_ Came Fleur’s voice next, her eyes glaring hard at the two older students. 

_“Fleur,”_ Claire called happily, making a grabby hand towards her. _“We’re friends, we can share right?”_

“Save me?” Hermione asked, trapped under Alexander’s other arm. Claire raised her head unsteadily, looking at the English witch, and wagging a finger in her face.

_“Non, you speak French today, remember?”_

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the older girl, sticking her tongue out. Fleur sighed at both of them, shoving the three over to crawl in next to Hermione.

_“Did you catch her?”_ Hermione asked, smiling as Fleur wrapped herself over the Gryffindor.

_“She ran to the castle,”_ Fleur admitted. _“I’ll get her later, the little sneak.”_

Hermione hummed, laughing at the sight of Fleur, normally so put together. This morning, her hair was mused and poofy, and the shirt she had put on last night was buttoned incorrectly, and inside out.

_“Shush,”_ Alexander chided, awkwardly patting Fleur’s arm. _“Back to sleep now, far too early.”_

Fleur nodded, burying her face into Hermione’s neck. Hermione smiled, falling back asleep in the middle of the Beauxbaton students easily.

The next time Hermione woke up, it was a lot nicer. Fleur had curled fully on top of Hermione, Alexander had an arm underneath her pillow, with Claire asleep on his chest. Hermione tried to shift slightly, trying to get some blood to flow back into her arm. However, she froze when Fleur shifted further, groaning into her chest.

_“What’re you doing?”_ Fleur mumbled, nuzzling into her makeshift pillow. The French witch seemed to suddenly realise where exactly her head was, and shot up, accidentally hitting Alexander in the process.

_“What was that for?”_ Alexander jumped, forcing Claire off his chest rather violently.

Fleur blushed, eyes darting to the Gryffindor’s chest, and Hermione’s flushed face. _“I’m sorry mon amour, I didn’t mean -”_

“It’s okay,” Hermione cut in quickly, offering a smile, pulling herself up to lean against the headboard.

_“French ‘Ermione!”_ Claire chastised groggily, pushing herself up, before turning her attention to Alexander. _“And why did you push me off you?”_

_“Fleur hit me,”_ Alexander explained simply.

_“You probably deserved it,”_ Claire shrugged, looking a lot more alive than what she did earlier. _“You need a bath, you smell.”_

Alexander gasped, grabbing his chest. _“How dare you! I smell lovely!”_

_“You smell like stale beer,”_ Claire replied, absentmindedly checking her nails. _“Which I don’t even remember you having, so explain that.”_

Fleur snorted, resting her head against Hermione’s shoulder. When they both turned their attention to the blonde, she grinned at them. _“What happened with you two last night?”_

_“Nothing that concerns you,”_ Alexander sniffed, titling his head up. 

_“Did you finally get together?”_ Fleur pressed on, eyes darting between them. Her face morphed into a triumphant smirk when Alexander refused to look at her, and Claire blushed.

_“I’m going for a bath, I’m not dealing with you today,”_ Claire finally said, moving out of bed. _“Coming Alexander?”_

_“Not yet he isn’t,”_ Fleur muttered to Hermione. Both witches laughed when Alexander flipped them off as he left the room, slamming the door shut.

The pair sat in silence for a moment, seeming content just being wrapped up with each other. Eventually, Fleur turned Hermione around, summoning a hairbrush. The Gryffindor smiled, closing her eyes at Fleur’s ministrations. Fleur put the brush down, gathering the hair in her hands and twisting it over itself.

“Zere,” Fleur finally said, breaking the silence. She pushed the braid over Hermione’s shoulder, smiling at her handiwork. 

Hermione smiled back at Fleur, fiddling with the end of her braid. The English witch bit her lip, picking back up the hairbrush, and turning to face Fleur. “My turn? I don’t think it’ll be that neat.”

Fleur nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to Hermione’s lips before turning back around. Hermione took her time working through the mused hair, slowly returning it to the smooth sheet of hair it normally is. She put the brush down, holding the hair in her hands. Her teeth back to tugging at her lip, she manipulated the strands into a braid, cringing internally at how messy it seemed.

Hermione sat back, critiquing her handiwork in her head. Fleur pulled it over her shoulder, grinning at her hair, before turning to face Hermione.

“‘Ermione,” Fleur said lowly, still admiring her braid. “I love eet, _merci.”_

Hermione bit her lip, looking at Fleur strangely. “I love you,” she blurted out, her eyes widening comically. The veela’s head shot up, blue eyes searching Hermione’s brown ones intently. 

Before Hermione could fully process what she had blurted out, Fleur had pushed her onto the bed, straddling her waist. Fleur pressed hungry kisses to Hermione’s mouth, which the Gryffindor reciprocated just as much. Hands tugged each other closer, Hermione wrapping her arms around Fleur’s shoulders.

_“Je t’aime aussi ‘Ermione,”_ Fleur replied when she pulled up, her eyes darkening rapidly, before placing kisses along the brunette’s neck. In between each kiss, Fleur repeated the words, Hermione tangling a hand in her hair.

  
 _“You two are so gross.”_ Gabrielle had returned. She had a big grin on her face, but quickly ran away when Fleur threw a pillow at her head, groaning in annoyance.


	21. Before the Second Task

Hermione spent the rest of the day in the Carriage. Her and Fleur did not speak any further on their earlier conversation, instead content to enjoy each others’ company. She would have enjoyed her time more - if she didn’t have to stop Fleur from making herself an only child. Claire and Alexander seemed to be egging the youngest Delacour on, which only made Hermione’s job harder. 

It seemed that every student in the Carriage was in some state of disarray on Boxing Day. A few of the students were lounging about the main room in dressing gowns, but the majority seemed to be hiding in their rooms.

Maxime had put a buffet out for the students in the main room, but otherwise hadn’t been seen all day. Claire had explained, in between riling Fleur, that it wasn’t overly concerning. Whilst there were times Maxime did sit in the Carriage with the students, she also had to run Beauxbatons from afar.

It was only when it came to dinner, did Hermione insist that she had to go to the castle to eat. Alexander looked ready to argue, but conceded when the Gryffindor pointed out she had friends outside the Carriage.

However, Hermione wished she hadn’t been so insistent after dinner when the Beauxbaton students asked her to come back to the Carriage. Last night was the exception, Hermione had argued. As nice as it was - how safe she felt wrapped in Fleur’s arms - it could not become the norm.

Of course, that was _before_ Kaite and Amy caught her just around the corner from the Gryffindor Common Room. Amy, at least, had the decency to cast privacy charms around them before Katie launched into her tirade.

“What were you thinking,” Katie started, arms crossed furiously in front of her. “No note! We haven’t seen you all day! I told Delacour to have you back by eleven _last night!_ Not eleven the day after!”

Hermione flushed under her glare, eying Amy hopefully to rescue her. Amy just chuckled and shook her head. “Nope, ‘Mione, you got yourself into this, what were you even doing last night?”

“She best not have done anything Amy,” Katie snapped, briefly turning her glare to the older Ravenclaw before swapping back. “You didn’t, did you?”

“No,” Hermione appeased the older Gryffindor quickly. “No no, of course not. They were having an afterparty, and as I am, apparently, an honorary student, I was required to attend.”

Half the truth seemed to work. Hermione had indeed been called an honorary student, by the majority of the delegation. However, there was no requirement for her to stay. But, Hermione thought that the two older girls’ didn’t need to know that part.

“Where did you stay?” Katie urged, arms falling by her side.

“Well come on Katie,” Amy drawled, nudging the older Gryffindor playfully. “It’s pretty obvious isn’t it? Hermione stayed with Fleur!”

“We didn’t do anything,” Hermione quickly interrupted, holding her hands up to placate Katie. “We just slept together. We were joined by Claire and Alexander, both very hungover, this morning!”

Amy sniggered into her hand, whilst Katie blanched, eyes widening comically. Hermione flushed once the words registered in her head, and tried desperately to backtrack. Amy’s sniggers turned into a full out laugh in the middle of the corridor, clutching her sides.

“I don’t think I want to know anything else ‘Mione,” Amy teased, her eyes watering. “Merlin the French are wild, aren’t they?”

Hermione pouted, resisting the urge to stomp her foot like a child. “You know what I meant!”

“Aww, calm down, we’re just teasing,” Katie giggled, reaching to pinch Hermione’s cheek.

“Yeah you’re adorable when you’re flushed,” Amy added, pinching Hermione’s other cheek.

Hermione groaned, this time actually stomping her foot, but there was a small grin on her face nevertheless. The younger girl slapped away the pinching fingers lightly, turning on her heel and stalking to the Common Room, blush painted brightly over her face.

The rest of the Christmas Break passed quickly. In an attempt to avoid her family’s teasing, Hermione spent a lot of time with the Beauxbaton students. The delegation seemed happy to bring the Hogwarts student into their fold, after she had beaten a fair few of them at their drinking games after the Yule Ball. Hermione also caved into spending more nights staying over in Fleur’s room, to the teasing of the others.

When not with the Beauxbaton students, Hermione had taken time to badger Harry about solving his egg. Ron, thankfully, did not bring up the Yule Ball, and Hermione was in no rush to remind him of it. However, the pair did tell Hermione of what they overheard on the night of the Ball, accidentally eavesdropping on Hagrid and Maxime. Hermione had just shrugged at the information, but had mentioned it to Fleur, who confirmed that Hagrid was right. Maxime is a half-giant, but despite the lesser prejudice in France, it’s a lot simpler to claim “big-bones”.

Once classes resumed, Hermione put her foot down regarding staying in the Carriage during the week. Fleur had begged, pouted, and even threatened to hold her hostage. Unsurprisingly, Gabrielle was especially vocal in that, joining her older sister in pouting. Hermione conceded with staying over on Saturday nights, moreso because Madame Maxime had agreed.

However, with the return of classes, Hermione was not looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures. The snow hadn’t stopped falling all break, and now deep trenches were the only way to and from the class. It didn’t seem that anyone was looking forward to the class, although Ron did joke that perhaps the Skrewts could warm the class up - either by chasing them, or setting Hagrid’s hut on fire. Hermione still cast a warming charm on the trio, just in case.

When they actually made their way down to Hagrid’s cabin, they found a witch with closely cropped grey hair waiting for them. She barked at the trio when they came closer, still struggling through the deep snow.

“Where’s Hagrid?” Ron asked, staring at her. “Who’re you?”

“I am Professor Grubbly-Plank,” she responded briskly. “I’m your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”

“Where’s Hagrid?” Harry repeated the question loudly.

“He’s indisposed,” came the short reply, the Professor already turning to face the rest of the class.

Behind them, soft and unpleasant laughter broke out. They turned to see the Slytherin students approaching, none of whom looked surprised to see the temporary teacher. Hermione cast a quick glance at Hagrid’s cabin, noting that all the curtains were closed. She briefly wondered if he was sick, but quickly pushed the thought from her mind to pay attention to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

The professor was leading the class away from Hagrid’s hut, and Hermione sighed softly when Harry raced to catch up with the teacher. “What’s wrong with Hagrid?” He questioned her.

“Never you mind,” Professor Grubbly-Plant replied shortly.

“I do mind though,” Harry said hotly. “What’s up with him?”

Hermione’s eyes widened when they were led past the Beauxbatons paddock, noticing what was tethered against a tree on the edge of the Forest. Many of the other girls “ooohed” not a second later, as everyone saw the large unicorn.

“Where did she get it?” Hermione heard Lavender whisper to Parvati. “It’s so beautiful, but they’re meant to be hard to catch.”

The unicorn was a bright white, standing out clearly from the snow surrounding it. However, it seemed to be nervous, pawing at the ground with golden hooves. 

As Professor Grubbly-Plank called the girls forward, Hermione heard Malfoy start speaking to Harry and Ron. Part of her wanted to go back over and stop any potential fights, however, the Professor had started talking about the unicorn in great detail.

Once Care of Magical Creatures ended, Hermione caught up with Harry and Ron, who were already turning to walk back to the castle.

“I hope she stays that woman,” Parvati said happily. “That’s more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like. Proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters.”

“What about Hagrid?” Harry asked angrily, clutching at a paper in his fist.

Parvati levelled Harry with a measured look, before replying in a hard voice. “What about him? He can still be gamekeeper, can’t he?”

“That was a really good lesson,” Hermione agreed as they entered the Great Hall. Her eyes were already looking for tell-tale blonde hair. “I didn’t know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni-”

“Look at this,” Harry snarled, shoving the paper at her. Hermione glanced at the article from the Daily Prophet before reading more in depth. **  
**

_DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE_

A _lbus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._

__

_In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence._

__

_Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures. Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of Gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore._

__

_Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates. An alarming large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures._

_While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening." "I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything." Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however._

__

_In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creatures is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions. "I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject._

__

_As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not --- as he has always pretended --- a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

__

_Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror. While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges._

__

_If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature. In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power --- thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of the Death Eaters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of this unpleasant truth about his large friend --- but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with half-giants._

Hermione’s mouth fell open as she read through the article, barely acknowledging the other two Gryffindor’s leading them onto a bench. “How did that _horrible_ Skeeter woman find out about Hagrid? You don’t reckon he actually told her?”

“No,” Harry said, slumping in his seat. “He didn’t even tell us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he didn’t tell her anything horrible about me, so went ferreting around to get back at him.”

Hermione hummed, quietly putting some food on her plate. “Was she in the gardens that night? You two did say he was talking quite openly with Madame Maxime.”

“We’d have seen her in the garden,” Ron said, piling his plate high. “Anyway, Hagrid told us Dumbledore banned her, she’s not allowed on the grounds anymore.”

“Maybe she got an invisibility cloak,” Harry offered, his anger still clear by the shaking of his hands. “Sort of thing she’d do, isn’t it? Hide in the bushes, listening to people.”

Hermione was going to respond, but was distracted by Claire and Alexander swinging Gabrielle around, as they entered the Hall, Fleur on their heels. The Gryffindor gave the quartet a small smile as they adjusted their path to sit next to her. Fleur was about to lean in for a kiss, but Harry interrupted them sharply.

“You do want him back, right Hermione?”

Hermione tugged at her lip, ignoring the look the boy was giving her. “I - well, I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but of course I want him back, I do!”

“W’at ees going on?” Claire asked, distracting the two English wizards just long enough for Fleur to give Hermione a chaste kiss.

“Here,” Hermione said, allowing Fleur to tangle their hands together under the table. “That Skeeter woman wrote an article about him.”

Claire and Alexander both quickly skimmed the paper handed over to them. They then passed it over to Fleur, who, once she had read it, handed it to Gabrielle. Hermione knew that was a pointless endeavor - whilst the eight year old had an excellent grasp on verbal English, her reading skills were still heavily lacking. However, Gabrielle made a great showing of pretending to read the paper, nodding dramatically. 

“‘Agrid ees your friend, _non?”_ Fleur began airly. When the trio nodded, she continued. “W’at does eet matter w’at your papers write zen? Just go speak to ‘im after dinner.”

“They shouldn’t be dragging him through the mud,” Harry said, anger lacing his tone. Hermione amused herself with staring at Ron’s purpling face, raising an eyebrow at him when they locked eyes.

“Z’ow ‘im you are on ‘is zide,” Alexander added, playfully stealing a nugget from Gabrielle’s plate, much to her outrage. “‘E ‘as not c’anged from ze man you knew, ‘Arry.”

“He should’ve told us!”

“People can ‘ave zeir zecrets,” Claire said lightly, although she was watching the wizard carefully. “Per’aps ‘e did not know ‘ow you would react, and was worried?”

Hermione was back to biting her lip, aware that Claire was unknowingly hitting at the same issue she had about telling the boys about her family. Fleur silently squeezed her hand, seeming to sense her distraction. The witch flashed her a grateful smile, pulling her attention back to the conversation around her.

“We’re his friends,” Harry stressed, looking at a still slightly purple Ron for support. 

“Zen go talk to ‘im,” Claire said with an air of finality, resting her head on Alexander’s shoulder. The French students seemed happy to be finished with that conversation, instead telling stories about their morning classes.

After they had eaten, Fleur and Hermione said their goodbyes, and walked out of the Great Hall together. They wandered to the Library, Hermione quickly leading them to her favourite secluded spot.

Hermione grinned eagerly as Fleur settled their chairs close together, legs entwining. Whilst the English witch still wasn’t comfortable with public displays, she eagerly took comfort in Fleur when alone. Or in the Carriage, surrounded by students who just grin at them, and not pass along rumours.

Fleur seemed to amuse herself playing with strands of Hermione’s hair, always intent to have some sort of physical contact with the younger girl.

“W’at ‘ad you distracted earlier, _mon amour?”_ Fleur asked gently, her free hand drawing patterns over Hermione’s skirt.

Hermione sighed softly, leaning her head on Fleur’s shoulder. “What Claire said hit a bit close to home, I suppose.” At Fleur’s questioning noise, Hermione continued. “I never told them about Ros and Maribel until the start of this year, even though they adopted me just after my first year. I guess I was scared of what they would say, and how everything would change.”

“Did anyzing c’ange?”

The Gryffindor sighed again, closing her eyes. “That’s the worst bit. Nothing changed. I mean, sure Ron wasn’t overly happy at the start, but he got over it. I guess I thought Harry would react more, but he didn’t seem to mind I hadn’t told them.”

“Eet ees okay to be worried, _ma_ _chérie,”_ Fleur replied quietly. “Zey would not be your friends if zey could not ‘andle zat.”

Hermione snorted, “Maribel told me that same thing, you know.”

“Zee ees a clever woman indeed, _ma chérie.”_

“I love you.

_“Je t’aime aussie.”_

Hermione’s afternoon classes passed quickly. All too soon, she was being dragged away from her Arithmancy class by an excited Gabrielle, who was babbling in French about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend. However, once they passed into an otherwise empty corridor, Hermione paused. 

_“What’s wrong ‘Mi?”_ Gabrielle asked, still clinging to her hand.

Hermione had her eyes on a First-Year Slytherin, who had sniffed and quickly rubbed at his face when they rounded the corner. _“You go ahead, Gabby, I just need a second, okay?”_

The younger girl narrowed her eyes, but otherwise complied, skipping out of the corridor. Hermione approached the window where the Slytherin was sitting, holding her hands up in surrender when he quickly looked at her.

“You alright?” Hermione asked carefully, making a mental note of his bloodshot eyes.

“What does it matter to you?” the boy quickly said, going to gather his bag.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” Hermione said softly, crouching down on her heels to be eye level. She offered out her hand to shake. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

“Malcolm Baddock,” he replied, cautiously accepting the offered hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Malcolm,” Hermione said, forcing her voice to be cheerful. “Now, you sure everything’s okay?”

Malcolm sniffed again, quickly wiping at his face. Hermione conjured a tissue and handed it over silently. “It’s nothing important.” Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, but waited for him to continue. “Just struggling with some of the work.”

Hermione knew that this wasn’t the full truth, something in the way he responded made it certain that wasn’t everything. However, she smiled softly at him, allowing the matter to rest. “Listen, if you want, I don’t want to brag, but I’m top of my year. If you want I can help you with the work. We can do it privately in the Library, so others won’t know?”

Malcolm eyed Hermione carefully, before nodding his head slowly. “I’d like that - if you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mind,” Hermione replied quietly. “What do you struggle with the most?”

“Charms and Potions.”

“Right,” Hermione smiled brightly at Malcolm. “Well, when do you have them next?”

Malcolm thought about that for a minute, before replying. “Monday for both. Snape set an essay about the Forgetfulness Potion, and Flitwick wants us to revise the _Lumos_ spell.”

“Okay, so how about you try your hand at Snape’s essay first, and on Sunday we’ll go over it together, after lunch? If you’ve got time, make notes on _Lumos,_ and we’ll practise that as well.” Hermione grinned when Malcolm nodded shakily.

“Thank you,” he said, quiet enough that Hermione wasn’t sure she heard him for a minute.

“It’s no bother, truly. I don’t mind, and I’m sure I’ve still got my notes from my first year. We can go over all your classes together, if that’ll help?”

“Yeah, yeah that’ll be great,” Malcolm smiled at the older Gryffindor. Hermione conjured another few tissues for the Slytherin, smiling gently at him.

“Let me know if you have any issues before Sunday, though, won’t you?” Hermione questioned, not letting her smile slip. Once the younger student nodded again, Hermione rocked back to her feet easily. “Well, we best go get some dinner, Malcolm. Remember to come and find me anytime, and if not, I’ll see you Sunday?”

“Thank you, Hermione,” the boy repeated, this time louder, before he walked out of the hallway. Hermione counted to ten in her head, before following the route to the Great Hall. She smiled as she slipped in next to Gabrielle and Fleur, noticing that Malcolm had gone to sit with some other first year Slytherins. After dinner, she hurriedly sent an owl to Ros asking for her first year notes, as both Ros and Maribel had returned home until the second task.

With the post on Saturday morning, came Hermione’s notes, and she quickly went back to her dorm to drop them off. It had been a few days since she had spoken to Malcolm, but Hermione had seen him at meals, surrounded by other first years.

On the way back down to the Entrance Hall, she ran into Harry and Ron, both planning on using the day’s visit to Hogsmeade, much to Hermione’s surprise.

“I just thought you’d want to take advantage of the common room being quiet,” Hermione said to Harry. “Really get to work on that egg?”

Harry gave her a guilty look, “I - oh I reckon I’ve got a pretty good idea what’s it about now.”

“Have you really? Well done,” Hermione replied, giving the boy a proud look. Harry looked to say something further, when she felt her necklace heating up underneath her jumper. Hermione grinned broadly, turning to face Fleur. The Champion had Hermione’s Gryffindor scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, her hands tucked into her pockets.

_“Bonjour,”_ Fleur said once she came closer, immediately reaching for Hermione’s hand.

“Hi Fleur, managed to give Gabby to Claire and Alexander today?” Hermione teased.

Fleur sighed, and shook her head. _“Non,_ just until we get to ze village, we ‘ave to meet zem at ze pub.”

“Right, we’ll meet you two there?” Ron asked quietly. Hermione inwardly giggled at how he pointedly avoiding looking at Fleur for too long, her Thrall still having a strong effect on him.

“Alright, we’ll get a table,” Hermione nodded, watching as the two other Gryffindor’s walked off.

Fleur and Hermione waited a few moments before following the path, the older witch quickly performing warming charms on them. They walked in silence, Fleur pulling Hermione closer to her side. It was only when they passed the lake, watching as Victor Krum dove into the water did Fleur break the silence.

“I ‘ate water.”

Hermione gave her a teasing smile. “Well you are a bird, you know?”

Fleur rolled her eyes, knocking the younger girl’s shoulder playfully. “Zat ees ze next task - water.”

“Wait,” Hermione stopped, jolting Fleur to turn around and face her. “What do you mean, water, Fleur?”

“Zey will take zomezing from ze champions, and we ‘ave an ‘our to retrieve eet. Ze egg, eet ees ze Murpeople zinging, zo I guess eet ees to do wiz water.”

Hermione stared at the girl in silence, mouth agape. “When did you work it out?” She asked quietly.

Fleur gave her a lopsided grin, tugging the younger girl closer. “Not zat long after ze dragons. Murpeople and Veela are zomew’at related. As loud as eet ees, eet ees obviously ze Murpeople, zo ze first zing I did was put eet in water.”

“Merlin,” Hermione breathed out, “You’ve kept that one hidden.”

“Zorry, ‘Ermione, I did not want to worry you, and I ‘ave a plan. Eet ees zo close now, and I am worried,” Fleur sighed, resting her forehead against Hermiones.

“Well,” Hermione tilted her head to kiss Fleur quickly. She tugged the older girl towards the village, wrapping their arms together. “What’s your plan?”

“Bubble’ead charm. And warming,” She replied simply. “I was zinking about transfiguration, as a back up.”

Hermione hummed, nodding her head. She was already running through different underwater creatures that lived in the Lake. “What about the creatures? With the Bubblehead charm isn’t it harder to cast verbally?”

“‘Ermione,” Fleur began teasingly, giving the girl a warm smile. “You forget, I am zree years a’ead, eet ees expected for me to cast non-verbally for ze past year.”

The Gryffindor blushed, turning to examine the scenery as they walked. “I’m sorry, I forget sometimes.”

“I forget zat you are young as well, _mon amour,_ you act zo wise,” Fleur pressed a kiss to the top of Hermione’s head.

Hermione hummed, looking through the windows of shops as they walked down Hogsmeade’s high street. Fleur held open the door to the Three Broomsticks, giving Hermione a mock bow as she entered.

“I wonder what Harry has planned for the second task,” Hermione mused, allowing Fleur to lead the way to the counter.

“‘E ‘as not told you?” Fleur asked, leaning against the bar.

“No,” Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “Harry’s said he’s got a good idea about it but -”

“You do not believe ‘im?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I doubt he’s started working on it at all, he’s treating the Tournament like how he treats his homework - last minute. But I’ve learnt it’s better not to push the issue, if he needs help he’ll ask eventually.”

Fleur ordered drinks for the pair, Hermione frowning slightly as the older girl paid for them both. “I won’t tell him what it is, or that you’ve worked it out,” Hermione eventually said, picking up the drinks and leading them to a table.

“You can, I do not mind,” Fleur said quietly. Hermione, however, shot her an affronted look.

“No, Fleur, I won’t. I’ll help you both, but I’m not abusing your trust to tell him something,” Hermione said forcefully. “You’ve told me that as your girlfriend.”

_“Merci, ‘Ermione,”_ Fleur said after a moment, pressing close to the younger girl. Hermione gave her a small grin, leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. Fleur’s face lit up slightly, playfully knocking their glasses together before taking a sip.

Hermione let her eyes wander over the pub, narrowing at Ludo Bagman sitting in a corner with a group of Goblins. Her view of them was blocked, when an excitable blonde leapt into her vision.

“‘Mi!” Gabrielle exclaimed, quickly climbing over the table to give her a hug. _“This village is so cool!”_

“Gabby,” Claire said exasperatedly. She sunk into a seat opposite, waving Alexander to go to the bar. “Eenglish.”

“Did you have a good morning?” Hermione asked, taking satisfaction in how exhausted the other witch looked. 

“Zat leetle monster wanted to zee _every_ ztore,” Claire moaned, resting her head on the table dramatically. “Eet ees worse zan ze ‘angover after ze Ball.”

“I am not leetle monster,” Gabby said, glaring at her escort.

“A leetle monster,” Fleur corrected, rolling her eyes. 

“W’o ees a monster? Gabrielle?” Alexander asked, sliding drinks to both Gabrielle and Claire. He shrugged, knocking back half his drink in one. “We all knew zat already. Is zat not ze reason your _maman_ drinks, Fleur?”

_“Non,”_ Claire interrupted smoothly, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “Fleur ees ze reason zee drinks. _Gabrielle_ ees ze reason zeir _papa_ drinks.”

Hermione giggled, enjoying the faint blush that was decorating the Delacour sisters’ cheeks. She quickly waved to Harry and Ron as they entered, nodding as they pointed to the bar.

Fleur grumbled, pulling Hermione under her arm, as she glared at Claire. Hermione kept her attention, however, on Harry and Ron, the former of which had been dragged aside by Ludo Bagman. Her eyes narrowed as she saw Harry squirm, but just as she thought of going over there, Fred and George swooped in, chatting brightly to the Ministry Official. Ludo quickly said something to the three students, before hurrying out of the pub. The Goblins, Hermione noted, followed suit on his heels.

“Hello everyone,” the two boys mumbled as they sat on their table, each cradling a glass.

“What did Ludo Bagman want, Harry?” Hermione asked, taking a small sip of her Butterbeer.

“He offered to help with my Egg,” Harry mumbled, staring intently at his drink. Hermione felt Fleur stiffen next to her, and rubbed calming patterns on her thigh quickly.

“He shouldn’t be doing that,” Hermione said, very calmly. “He’s one of the _judges!_ Anyway, you’ve already worked it out, haven’t you?”

“Er - nearly, yeah,” Harry said, not moving his gaze from his drink. Fleur quickly tangled their hands together, giving Hermione a comforting squeeze.

“Well,” Hermione’s eyes narrowed again. “I don’t think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat.”

“‘E ‘as not offered me any advice,” Fleur said, rubbing Hermione’s arm slowly. The French Champion tried to keep her voice calm. “And I doubt ‘e ‘as offered anyone else ‘is advice.”

“W’at about ze Goblins?” Alexander interrupted smoothly, an arm slung around Claire’s shoulders.

Harry shrugged, finally looking up from his drink. “Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman. He’s still ill, hasn’t been into work much lately.”

“Weird, they would normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,” Hermione mused, raising an eyebrow as both Alexander and Fleur snorted.

Fleur waved off Hermione’s gaze, shaking her head slightly. The French witch then narrowed her own eyes, looking at something past Hermione’s shoulder. Ron seemed to follow her gaze, if the muttered swearing was an indication.

Hermione turned, eyes quickly finding what the issue was. Rita Skeeter had just walked in, dressed in horribly banana-yellow robes, and pink painted nails.

_“That woman’s dress sense is worse than her writing,”_ Claire sniffed, shuffling slightly to keep the reporter in her eyesight. She was twirling her wand around her fingers like a baton. _“I never thought someone would think that yellow and neon pink match.”_

_“Perhaps we could give her some fashion tips?”_ Alexander replied quietly, one finger circling the rim of his glass.

_“In English,”_ Gabrielle sang teasingly, adjusting herself to sit on her legs, appearing taller.

Rita Skeeter and the Photographer following were talking rather quickly, as they passed their table. Hermione managed to hear her say something about finding a story when Harry interrupted loudly.

“Trying to ruin someone else’s life?”

Claire sighed quietly, shaking her head at Harry. Rita Skeeter turned around, her eyes widening comically as she locked onto Harry.

“Harry,” the reporter said breathlessly, her smile wide. “How lovely, why don’t you come and join -”

“I wouldn’t come near you with a ten foot broomstick,” Harry interrupted furiously. “What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?”

Rita Skeeter raised an eyebrow at him, her smile turning more into a smirk. “Our readers have a right to know the truth, Harry, I’m merely doing my -”

“Who cares if he’s a half-giant,” Harry shouted, drawing more attention to the situation. Fleur had draped an arm over Hermione’s shoulder, whilst Claire and Alexander moved closer to Gabrielle. “There’s nothing wrong with him!”

By this point, the whole pub had gone quiet, all eyes focussed on the pair. Rita Skeeter moved closer, pulling out a notebook and Quick-Quotes Quill in one movement. “How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship, and the reasons behind it? Would you call him a father substitute?”

Hermione knew, with that last sentence, that Rita had hit a nerve. Without thinking, she stood up angrily, glaring at the reporter. Fleur had risen with her, arm still over her shoulders. 

“You’re a horrible woman,” Hermione spat out. “You don’t care, do you? Anything for a story, and anyone will do, won’t they? Even Ludo Bagman -”

“Sit down you silly little girl,” Rita said coldly, eyeing the pair of standing witches. “I could tell you stories about Ludo that would curl even your hair - not that it needs it.” Rita’s eyes hardened as she took them in, glancing between Fleur and Harry, then back to Hermione. “How interesting, this little _arrangement._ The French Veela. _”_

“Exactly w’at arrangement ees zat?” Fleur spat, her own eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I would ‘old your tongue, if I were you,” Claire warned, her eyes trained on Rita. She was still mindlessly twirling her wand around.

“She’s not worth it, let’s go,” Hermione said angrily, placing a hand on Gabrielle to steer her away. Fleur kept her arm over her shoulders, keeping the Gryffindor from shaking obviously with rage.

The others followed them out, easily falling into step next to them.

“She’ll be after you next, Hermione,” Ron said quietly, his voice filled with warning.

“Oh just let her try,” Hermione said shrilly, Fleur’s arm doing nothing to quell her shaking. Anger laced her tone. “I’ll show her! Silly little girl, am I? Oh I’ll get her back, first Harry, now Hagrid.”

“You don’t want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter,” Ron continued nervously. “I’m serious, she’ll dig something up on you -”

“I don’t care, Ron,” Hermione interrupted, her strides lengthening. “Let her! There isn’t anything for her to dig up, she can’t scare me into hiding!”

_“Ma chérie,”_ Fleur started sweetly, running her hands over Hermione’s arms. “Take a moment to breaze, and calm down.”

“No, we need to go see Hagrid,” Hermione said furiously. “He isn’t hiding anymore, he should _never_ have let that disgrace of a human upset him!”

“‘Ermione,” Claire tried, glancing at the others for support. “You will not get anyw’ere by going to ‘im upset.”

“‘Ow about ‘Arry and Ron go zee ‘Agrid,” Alexander offered, throwing a pointed look to the two boys. “And you and Fleur can put zis energy to good use, _oui?”_

“Zis ees not ze time for zat,” Fleur spat, glaring at Alexander.

“I meant a duel, Fleur,” Alexander grinned at her. _“You have such a dirty mind, you pervert.”_

“Yeah, Hermione,” Harry stepped in, glancing nervously around the older students. “We’ll go speak to Hagrid.”

Hermione spun around, surprising Gabrielle who almost walked straight into her. “No. I’m going to go speak to him, and get him out of his hut and back to teaching.”

Before anyone could react, Hermione had spun back around, and broke into a run. Alexander sighed, offering Gabrielle his back to go on, before the rest of them began running to catch up.

“The last time she was this mad,” Harry explained to the Beauxbaton students, “she punched Draco Malfoy in the face.”

“I knew zere was a reason I liked ‘er,” Claire said with a grin, slowing down as they caught up to Hermione outside Hagrid’s hut. They could hear Fang barking as they approached.

“Hagrid!” Hermione shouted, a fist pounding on his door. “Hargrids, that’s enough! We know you’re in there! Nobody cares if you mum was a giantess! You can’t let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid get out here, you’re being -”

The door opened suddenly, Hermione just about staying on her feet. “About t-” She said harshly, before stopping very suddenly, and turning slightly pink. 

Instead of Hagrid, she found herself face to face with Dumbledore, her fist still raised in the air. His eyes twinkled as he glanced over the amassed students, giving them a smile.

“Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly.

“We,” Hermione said nervously, “we wanted to see Hagrid.”

“Yes, I summarised as much,” Dumbledore said, a smile playing on his lips. “Why don’t you all come in.”

“We will go back to ze Carriage,” Fleur said, nodding at Hermione. “Let me know w’en you are all finished?”

Hermione nodded back, giving the students a small wave, before heading into the hut.

It was several hours later when the trio left Hagrid. Hermione immediately left the other two, heading towards the Carriage. The door opened for her, Maxime having allowed Hermione to come and go as she pleases before the Yule Ball. Hermione said her hellos to the students milling about the main room, quickly making her way towards Fleur’s room.

“Did everyzing work out?” Fleur asked, as soon as Hermione stepped into the room. Gabrielle was writing on a piece of parchment, Claire sitting on top of the desk next to her. Alexander was throwing his wand in the air and catching it, laying on the floor. Fleur had sat up in bed, a book balanced on her thighs.

“Yeah,” Hermione replied, placing her bag down in the corner of the room. “Hagrid will be back to teaching Monday, thankfully.”

“Zat ees good zen,” Claire said, smiling at the English witch.

Hermione nodded, walking over to Fleur and throwing herself down next to her. Fleur immediately pulled Hermione in for a lingering kiss, smiling lopsidedly when they broke apart. 

“We ‘ave zomezing else to talk about,” Alexander said, conjuring sparks from his wand. _“A certain reporter you shouted at.”_

Hermione glanced over at Alexander, shaking her head slightly. “What’s there to deal with? She can write whatever she wants about me.”

“‘Ermione,” Fleur said softly. “Zere ees zings you can do to ztop ‘er dragging your name around.”

“Like what?” Hermione asked, before shaking her head again. “There isn’t anything, let her write her stupid little articles.

“‘Ermione, you know we all love you but,” Claire started, her tone harsher than the other two. “Ztop zinking like a muggleborn.”

“I am a muggleborn,” Hermione refuted, “what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Eet means, you need to deal wiz zis like a _pureblood,”_ Claire argued, making an effort to soften her voice.

“How exactly do you deal with this like a pureblood?” Hermione asked, and Claire straightened up, smiling widely.

“You tell Ros and Maribel, obviously,” she said, opening her arms wide, and ruffled Gabrielle’s hair. “Zey can deal wiz zat woman.”

“Absolutely not,” Hermione sank back into Fleur’s embrace. “I’m not getting them involved, I’m not _using_ them.”

“Eet ees not using zem, you are all a family, _non?”_ Alexander said, shrugging his shoulders. “Claire ees a pureblood, eef any papers write anyzing negative, ‘er parents get eet shut down, or ze story ees turned around into zomezing positive.”

Claire nodded, leaning forward from her perch. _“Exactly my point,_ zey can put a ztop to anyzing zat woman writes, before eet even gets approved.”

“I’m not going to use them,” Hermione said stubbornly. “There’s nothing she can drag up! And even if she did, I’m not going to go into hiding about it - everything she’s written so far is trash.”

Fleur sighed, running her fingers through Hermione’s hair. “Eet would not ‘urt, eef you just told zem, zey do not ‘ave to do anyzing.”

Claire looked ready to argue this point, narrowing her eyes, but Alexander leaned over and placed a calming hand on her knee.

“I’ll think about it,” Hermione sighed, slumping further.

“Zat Malfoy boy,” Claire said softly, shaking her head at Alexander. “Eef zis paper would write zomezing bad about ‘im, would ‘is parents get it ztopped?”

“That’s different,” Hermione replied.

“‘Ow zo? Zink like a pureblood, ‘Ermione,” Claire pushed, “wiz pureblood connections. Eet ees not using zem, zey are your family!”

“Claire ‘as a point, _mon amour,”_ Fleur soothed, wrapping her arms around the younger girl. “At least tell zem. Zey love you, and will protect you from anyzing zee writes.”

Hermione merely hummed, letting the conversation drop away.

The Gryffindor's Sunday passed quickly. Malcolm Baddock’s study session went without incident. Hermione had easily pointed out small changes to make to his Potions essay, to make it flow a little better. Whilst she was hesitant to practise brewing, they went over common mistakes. His notes on the _Lumos_ charm were detailed, and he managed to produce a small light after half an hour of revising. 

Hermione organised to see him a few times a week, to go over his work and help tutor him. She had made a point not to ask anything personal, and the first year did not offer any further information. 

Her only issue was with Harry. They sat at the back of their Charms Class, pretending to practise the Banishing charm, but were using the time to talk privately.

“You said,” Hermione stressed, “you worked that clue out _ages_ ago!”

“Keep your voice down,” Harry hissed, quickly glancing around the room. “I just - sort of need to fine tune it, okay?”

Hermione flicked her wand, banishing her cushion to the box effortlessly. She glanced up as Professor Flitwick went flying across the room, due to Neville’s poor aim. 

“Just forget about the egg for a minute,” Harry hissed again, waving his wand and making his cushion do a small flip on the table. “I’m trying to tell you about Snape and Moody.”

Hermione sighed, tuning out their conversation. Shaking her head, she focused on sending her pile of cushions to the box. By the time class was over, she had managed to convince Ron that Snape did not put Harry’s name in the Goblet, as a trusted friend of Dumbledore. Of course, the next issue was finding a way for Harry to survive the next task.

They had gone through as many books as they could in the next few weeks. Hermione point blank refused to offer any information about Fleur’s tactic, but thankfully, neither boy had asked. She had also kept her tutoring with Malcolm secret from the other two, knowing that Ron, at least, would argue about “helping a snake”. However, Malcolm had been joined by another first year Slytherin - an Emma Dobbs. She came over with Malcolm, and Hermione had not even blinked, merely making a copy of her notes with a wave of her wand. Both Slytherins looked extremely relieved at that.

All too soon, it was the evening before the Second Task. Hermione had made apologies to Fleur at dinner. Whilst she wanted to go and spend the night with the French witch, Harry was still not prepared for the Task. Fleur had given her a grin, kissed her rather soundly in an empty hallway, and made her promise to meet up in the morning.

Hermione sighed as she put another spell book back. She had briefly considered the Bubblehead Charm, but that wouldn’t necessarily help the issue of swimming. Harry had confided in the pair that the Dursleys had never bothered with swimming lessons. This meant that he needed a swimming assistant, as well as a way to breathe. 

“There’s no way it can be done,” Ron muttered, pushing away his book. “There’s absolutely nothing that can be done.” 

Hermione moved her head closer to her next book, eyes rapidly flicking through _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes._

“Maybe they’ve set an impossible task,” Harry offered, copying Ron’s movements of pushing away a book.

“They have,” Ron agreed quickly, “Harry, just go down to the Lake tomorrow, stick your head in, yell at the Murpeople to give back whatever they’ve taken, and see if they chuck it out. Best way of doing it.”

Hermione sighed again, tuning out their conversation to start her next book. Eventually, she snapped that one shut too. “Oh this is pointless, who on Earth wants to make their nose hairs grow into ringlets?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” came Fred’s voice from behind her.

“It’ll be a talking point,” George finished, leaning against each other.

“What are you two doing here?” Ron asked.

“Looking for you,” George answered.

“And you, Hermione,” Fred continued. “McGonagall wants to see you both.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, surprise clear on her face. Both twins shrugged at her.

“Dunno, she looked right grim though,” Fred said.

“We need to take you both to her office.”

“Right,” Hermione said uneasily, picking up her bag. “Harry, we’ll meet you in the Common Room. Bring as many books back as you can.”

Harry nodded, watching as the four walked out of the Library. As the twins led the way to McGonagall’s office, Hermione’s stomach was turning, her brain reeling. Was this because of how much they had helped Harry prepare, she asked herself. Just as they entered the room, Hermione’s eyes widened, coming to a horrible conclusion.

Right as Hermione locked eyes with McGonagall, her world turned black.


	22. The Second Task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything in italics is in French

Fleur woke up to her little sister bundling onto the bed. The older girl mumbled, trying to turn away from the disturbance. 

_“Wake up,”_ Gabrielle sang, bouncing on the bed. _“Claire is already on her way over here. Did you know she’s sleeping in Alexander’s room now? Are they finally together?”_

_“Gabby, they’ve been together since the Yule Ball,”_ Fleur groaned, hoping that bit of information would be enough to remove the annoyance. 

_“Where’s ‘Mi? I thought she said she was going to stay over?”_ Gabrielle changed topics suddenly, seeming to only just realise there was one body in the bed.

Fleur groaned, knowing that getting a bit more sleep was a pointless endeavor. _“She needed to help ‘Arry prepare for this Task.”_

_“But what about helping you prepare?”_ Gabrielle asked teasingly. Fleur narrowed her eyes at her sister.

_“You’re not allowed to spend any more time with Alexander and Claire, they’re horrible influences.”_

_“Alexander’s family, and apparently Claire will be soon too, you can’t stop me!”_ Gabrielle exclaimed, grinning broadly as she settled against the foot of the bed.

Fleur sighed, pushing herself up and resting against the headboard. _“Have you seen if they’ve taken anything?”_

Gabrielle frowned, glancing around the room. _“It looks like everything’s here, maybe they’ll take it during breakfast?”_

_“That’s leaving it a bit late, don’t you think?”_ Fleur mused, glancing around the room herself. _“I guess I’ll just have to work it out in the Lake.”_

_“Where’s ‘Ermione?”_ Claire asked, walking into Fleur’s room. She had taken her time to put her uniform on, her hat twirling between her hands. Fleur’s eyes immediately locked onto the floating cups behind her.

_“Morning to you too Claire,”_ Fleur sighed, grabbing one of the coffee cups out of the air. _“She had to help ‘Arry prepare, she’ll meet me before the Task.”_

_“Very last minute, these English, aren’t they?”_ Claire asked sarcastically, pulling out the desk chair to sit on. _“Here Gabby, you can have her tea. How’re you feeling, Fleur, about this?”_

Fleur took a sip of her drink, suddenly hyper aware of the nerves settling in her stomach. _“It’s water. I hate water.”_

Claire hummed, nodding slowly. _“I can see how that’s potentially problematic.”_

Fleur scowled, throwing a pillow at Claire’s head. _“Potentially problematic, is that really the best you could come up with?”_

_“It’s still early, plenty of time. I need to warm up to tease ‘Ermione whilst you’re in the water,”_ Claire giggled, throwing the pillow back.

_“Can I help tease ‘Mi?”_ Gabrielle asked all too innocently. Claire grinned at the younger girl proudly, whereas Fleur groaned.

_“You two have been a horrible influence on her,”_ Fleur commented to Claire exasperatedly. Claire just shrugged in return, an evil smirk in place.

_“Are you decent?”_ Came Alexander’s voice through the closed door. _“Madame Maxime said we all have to go into breakfast together. And that ‘Ermione can join us if she wears the uniform!”_

_“Come in Alexander,”_ Claire called back, Fleur already moving off the bed to get her clothes ready, coffee floating behind her.

Alexander strolled in, softly closing the door behind him. Over one arm, he had slung a set of Beauxbaton robes. _“‘Ermione, I got these off Angelique, they’re too small, she said - wait where’s ‘Ermione?”_ The boy looked around the room, before glaring at Fleur. _“Why did you scare her off?”_

Fleur sighed, hitting her head against her wardrobe. _“I didn’t scare her off, she needed to help ‘Arry prepare for the Task. And if one more person asks where she is I’ll drown you all in the Lake.”_

Alexander held his hands up, dropping the Beauxbaton robes on the bed. _“And here I thought we all wanted to see how cute she would look in our uniform.”_

_“She’s meeting ‘Mi for breakfast,”_ Gabrielle supplied happily, _“She can put on the hat in the Hall!”_

_“I suppose we can deal with that,”_ Alexander sighed, dropping onto the bed. He eyed Fleur and Gabrielle still in their pajamas. _“You both need to go get ready, Maxime wants to leave soon.”_

_“I’m not telling her ‘Ermione didn’t stay over,”_ Claire said, _“she’s insistent on convincing her to transfer to Beauxbatons.”_

Fleur glared at the pair of students, flinging her swimsuit at Claire’s head. _“Gabby, go with Alexander and get ready. Alexander if you corrupt my sister any further I’ll tell your mother.”_

Alexander’s eyes widened comically, and he quickly gathered Angelique’s robes and shuffled out of the room with Gabrielle. Before he shut the door, he gave the two girls a mocking bow, laughing loudly down the corridor.

Claire grinned, holding up the swimsuit suggestively. _“Hoping ‘Ermione will help peel this off afterwards?”_

The other witch half heartedly glared, pulling her uniform off hangers. _“‘Ermione is young, Claire, we’re taking it slowly.”_

_“Is that what you want? Or her?”_ Claire turned around to start pulling pins and hairbands out of drawers, preparing to braid Fleur’s hair. _“Let me guess, you haven’t even spoken about it, have you?”_

Fleur’s face flushed, grateful that Claire was keeping the conversation away from the upcoming Task. _“We haven’t spoken about it, no. I don’t want to push her.”_

_“And your Aunt will kill you if you dare push your luck.”_

_“Mari probably wouldn’t, but I wouldn’t put it past Ros,”_ Fleur quickly changed into her swimming costume, strapping an empty wand holster to her thigh. Her uniform was put on top, wand stowed in her pocket.

_“Did ‘Ermione owl them about that reporter?”_ Claire asked, quickly getting to work on braiding Fleur’s hair.

_“I don’t think so,”_ Fleur admitted, _“could you get her to talk to Ros during the Task please?”_

_“Of course, I’ll tell them myself if ‘Ermione won’t,”_ Claire sighed, holding a pin in between her teeth. _“It’s been a few weeks since the incident, but reporters can hold a grudge. I told her to think like a pureblood.”_

_“‘Ermione is very independent, she wants to deal with it herself… I’ll try to talk to her during breakfast, but I imagine she’ll be more concerned with the Task than that stupid woman.”_

_“I like to call her stubborn, but independent works as well. There, you’re all done,”_ Claire summoned Fleur’s hat, placing it carefully on the braids, before stepping back. _“Now, run me through your plan again.”_

Fleur smiled, one hand delicately touching the braids. Standing up, she recited her plan again. _“As soon as the whistle blows, I’ll go straight in, casting warming charms as I dive. Bubblehead charm afterwards, then create a slipstream. Aim for the deepest point of the Lake, presumably towards the middle of it.”_

_“And,”_ Claire prompted, as they walked towards the main room.

_“Listen for the song,”_ Fleur intoned, hitching her bag further onto her shoulder. _“The Merpeople should hopefully be singing it. As soon as I’ve got the item, slipstream straight up, out of the water. Pray I don’t drown.”_

_“Morning,”_ Maxime’s voice boomed as they entered the main room. The rest of the delegation were lounging about, but quickly jumped up as the last two students entered. _“I trust you are prepared?”_

Looking over her fellow students, Fleur felt her nerves return tenfold. The Triwizard Tournament was never about personal glory, not for her. It was for her school. Fleur didn’t trust her voice to cooperate, so just nodded, her face setting in a neutral expression. Madame Maxime nodded, eyes briefly glancing over Fleur’s shoulder, before turning and leading the delegation out of the Carriage.

Fleur felt her sister take her hand as they filed out, knowing that Claire and Alexander were in step behind them. Her Thrall seeped out nervously, drawing attention to the students as they filed into the Great Hall. Fleur’s eyes glanced over the Gryffindor table, searching for Hermione.

_“I can’t see her,”_ Alexander mumbled, buttering some toast. Claire and Gabrielle had both turned to look around the Hall, searching for a glimpse of bushy hair.

_“Maybe ‘Arry is still not ready?”_ Claire offered quietly. _“He isn’t here either.”_

Fleur locked eyes with Maribel, back to sitting at the Top Table. Her aunt gave Fleur a small wave and a smile. The older Veela mouthed _“good luck”,_ before turning her attention back to Ros.

_“Auntie Mari doesn’t seem worried,”_ Fleur muttered, her stomach churning uncomfortably. 

_“‘Mi will be down soon,”_ Gabrielle insisted, putting some fruit on her sister’s plate. _“You need to eat Fleur.”_

The Champion sighed, eating the fruit on her plate. Her mind was racing, wondering where Hermione was, and going over her plan again. 

_“Claire, Alexander,”_ Fleur suddenly said, as a horrible thought struck her. _“You don’t think I have to rescue ‘Ermione, do you?”_

Both their eyes widened, glancing around the Hall again. It was Alexander that replied, slowly. _“They wouldn’t have, surely.”_

_“It would be the first time for a human hostage,”_ Claire added, her face turning as pale as Fleur’s.

_“Your aunts don’t seem worried, they can’t have taken her.”_

_“And Madame Maxime thought that ‘Ermione had stayed over, surely she would know.”_

Fleur sighed, nodding her head. _“Of course, I just panicked.”_

_“We’ll find her,”_ Gabrielle said, very seriously. Fleur nodded again, her throat tight. 

_“She’s probably running late,”_ Claire said softly, although Fleur wasn’t sure who that was aimed at.

_“It’s almost time to head down,”_ Alexander said, a little while later. Fleur had long since stopped eating, her nerves growing with every passing minute.

As soon as Madame Maxime stood up, the Beauxbaton delegation rose. The chatter in the Hall was no more than buzzing in Fleur’s ears. Automatically, her hand found Gabrielle’s, piercing blue eyes searching the entire way down to the Lake.

_“You okay?”_ Gabby’s voice broke through the buzzing. Fleur glanced down briefly, giving her a small smile and nod, before she was back to looking for bushy hair.

The seats that encircled the Dragon enclosure now stood on the bank of the Lake, already beginning to fill up with students. A golden table for the judges stood empty in front of the stands. Fleur vaguely heard her fellow students wish her good luck, sounding like she was already underwater. Gabrielle kept hold of her hand tightly. Madame Maxime squeezed at Fleur’s other shoulder before moving towards the Judges table.

Thankfully, Claire and Alexander kept close, moving towards the bank as one unit. Fleur focused on her breathing, eyeing the water with distrust. 

_“She’s not here, Fleur,”_ Alexander said softly, eyes taking one more glance around the stand.

_“It’s not like ‘Ermione to not show up,”_ Claire muttered.

“Sorry, are you looking for Hermione Granger?” Cedric Diggory interrupted. He flushed slightly when four sets of eyes stared in his direction. The Hogwarts student was halfway through a series of stretches. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it’s just I haven’t seen Cho this morning either, and I heard you say Hermione.”

_“Oui,”_ Claire cut across his rambling softly. “Nobody ‘as seen eizer of zem zis morning?”

“No, I asked a few of the Ravenclaws, but she hasn’t been seen since last night. Cho that is.”

“Zat ees very weird,” Alexander mumbled, placing a hand on Fleur’s arm when she tensed.

_“I need to speak to Maribel,”_ Fleur muttered to Alexander, her stomach rolling violently. “Zank you, Cedric, eet ees ztrange zey ‘ave not told anyone w’ere zey are.”

_“I’ll go speak to Maribel,”_ Alexander whispered, _“you stay here, get out of your uniform and get ready. Task is due to start any minute.”_

Fleur nodded to Alexander, tuning out whatever Claire and Cedric were talking about. She watched as Alexander jogged to where her aunt was talking to Maxime, Ros already leaning against the Judges table talking to Ludo Bagman. The stands were almost filled, the last few stragglers settling. Victor Krum and Durmstrang had arrived silently, their champion already in just a pair of trunks.

Quickly, Fleur stripped off her uniform, revealing the silver swim costume. Her long cloak went back over the top of it, and wand was tucked neatly in her thigh holster. Fleur’s attention went back to Alexander and Maribel. Together, they strode to the Judges table, Madame Maxime in tow, to speak, heads down, to Ros. Fleur’s stomach dropped as she watched Ros turn pale, quickly glancing where three Champions were assembled, before turning to speak to Professor Dumbledore.

_“What are they talking about?”_ Claire asked quietly, following Fleur’s piercing stare. The Beauxbatons Champion was tense, her worst fears about to come true, she was certain.

“I zink,” Fleur said in a slightly louder voice and in English for the Hogwarts Champion, “zat zey are w’o we ‘ave to rescue.”

Fleur missed Cedric paling rapidly, but heard him pass the message along to Victor Krum. Claire gasped, reaching out to touch Fleur’s shoulder. Fleur wasn’t sure if that was to stop her jumping in the Lake early.

The three Champions now kept their eyes on the assembled Judges, Fleur watching for any hint that it was her Hermione, her _mate_ in that Lake. None of them could hear what was happening, but Fleur watched as Alexander was moved backwards, Maribel and Ros both gesturing furiously. Even Madame Maxime and Karkaroff seemed mad about whatever it was. Ludo Bagman looked even more excited than he did at the start, and a redheaded boy kept to the back of the group. Professor Dumbledore seemed as calm as he always was, even with the four others seemingly shouting at him.

With all the commotion, nobody noticed as Harry Potter, the final Champion, raced into line. He was clutching at his side, breathing heavily, still in his robes. Claire’s grip on Fleur got stronger, as the four previously arguing judges deflated, Maribel giving Fleur a heavy look. Ros placed an arm around Maribel, alternating between glaring at Dumbledore, and looking apologetically at Fleur.

Fleur snarled, trying to break free from the grip to go rescue her Hermione. Her mate was trapped underwater, with Merpeople. The rational side of Fleur argued with her more in control Veela that Merpeople would recognise the mate of a Veela. The distant cousins would not allow any harm to come to her Hermione. The Veela part of her was not listening, focused on saving Hermione. Fleur knew that her eyes were changing colour, washing from blue to gold. Thankfully, as a part-Veela, the rest of the transformation was impossible, so Fleur did not have to worry about feathers sprouting.

_“Fleur, think about this,”_ Claire pleaded quietly, silently pushing Gabrielle away slightly. _“If you go in before the whistle they’ll disqualify you and pull you out before you can get to ‘Ermione. Give me your robe, get ready to go as soon as. You jump in before the whistle, you can’t save her.”_

That seemed to settle Fleur enough for her to throw off her cloak, trusting that Gabrielle picked it up. With a final nod to Claire and Gabrielle, Fleur moved forward, the other Champions forming a line right at the edge of the water. Her hand held the top of her wand, still holstered. None of the Champions could draw their wand before the whistle.

Fleur could somewhat hear Ludo Bagman talking, but, like with the well-wishes of her school, it sounded muffled, like she was submerged. Then, Fleur heard it, clear as day. The all important whistle, echoing shrilly through her head.

Without looking back, Fleur leaped forward, as quickly as she could, into the deeper water. For the first time since she had worked out the clue, the water was not an issue for her. Wand drawn from the holster, warming spells were cast, threaded into her costume with ease. 

As she dove into the deeper water, all thoughts of the Bubblehead went out the window. The Bubblehead Charm would only slow her down, and impair her vision. Whilst still diving down, Fleur started her transfiguration. Firstly, gills stretching over her neck, the transfiguration going deeper and altering her lungs to allow the water. A dangerous change, one that had only been covered in theory during class.

Next, webbing between her fingers, still allowing a grip on her wand, but making her move that little faster through the water. Followed quickly by a charm to alter her vision, allowing her crystal clear eyesight whilst underwater.

Fleur’s final transfiguration delved into her Veela roots. More specifically, the Veela’s roots with the Merpeople. A tail rather than two legs. More agile, allowing her to move faster.

As Fleur sped downwards, her Veela seemed to know which way to go, and where to avoid. Sharply, she swerved around a meadow of what looked like grass. When she saw the Grindylow try to latch onto her tail, it was barely a flick of her wand for the small horned creature to be burnt off her.

At one point, she was sure there was a ghost of a girl in the water, swimming with the fish. However, Fleur turned away from the spectre, changing direction slightly. Her thoughts were filled with finding Hermione, and she barely recognised it when she passed into the Merpeople territory. 

Fleur looked around the small village she came across, swimming much more carefully now. Whilst they were distant cousins, if they had been ordered to fight, no family relations would help her. The houses were no more than crude stone dwellings, some with gardens of seaweed outside.

She wearily stopped at a pair of Merpeople, both armed with spears. However, the two nodded at her in welcome. “Veela, cousin. Many blessings to you and your flock.”

Fleur nodded back at the pair, taking care to clearly pronounce the return. “Merfolk, cousin. Many blessings to you and your tribe.”

With that over with, the pair pointed towards the middle of the village. “Your Chosen is there, cousin. Had we known, we would not have agreed.”

“Many thanks, cousins.” Fleur said carefully, making sure to fully pronounce every word. They nodded, and Fleur swam as fast as she respectfully could. She could not sit through her Grandmother lecturing her on etiquette if word got out she swam rudely through their land.

The French Champion swam past a few more Merpeople, but thankfully none offered a greeting, seeming to sense her haste. They were nothing like paintings, with greyish skins, and long, wild green hair. Thick ropes of pebbles were strung around the adult’s necks. The further into the village she swam, the more of her cousins were outside.

Finally, Fleur came to the main square. In the back of her head, she recognised the Merpeople singing the clue from the Egg, but she quickly went back to ignoring the sound. Her attention came to the Merchieftainess, behind whom was her Hermione, bound to a statue, seeming to be asleep.

“Veela, cousin,” The Merchief said, voice echoing over the noise of the choir. “Many blessings to you and your flock.”

“Merchieftainess, cousin,” Fleur replied, taking great care to look at the imposing figure in the eyes. Once again, she was focussed on her accent, giving a deep bow. “Many blessings to you and your tribe.”

Unlike the other Merpeople, the Merchief had a choker of shark fangs, with a neat green beard. He was also significantly larger than the other Merpeople, and held a trident, rather than a spear.

“Heiress, cousin, I extend an apology,” The Merchief continued, bowing deeply, much to Fleur’s surprise. “Had I known that it was your Chosen being held hostage, I would never have offered my tribe.”

“Chief, cousin,” Fleur was trying not to shake from nerves, needing to get to her Hermione, but needing to show respect. It was only the fact that all four hostages were still there made Fleur relax slightly. She was in the lead over the others. The Merpeople would not allow Hermione to come to harm. “There is no need for apologies, but I accept and thank you for it all the same. It is not you and your tribe at fault.”

“Heiress, cousin,” the Merchief replied somberly. “We will make amends, name your price.”

Fleur was silent for a minute, before replying carefully. “Chief, cousin, I ask for you not to take the blame. This blame lays at the feet of another.”

The Merchief went silent himself, and Fleur wondered if she had unknowingly insulted the tribe. However, her thoughts were broken by his booming laugh, a large smile breaking apart his face, arms held wide to his side. “Cousin, you bring honour to your flock indeed. I accept your price. I will offer an extra, however.”

Before Fleur could question the Merchief, he turned, striking against Hermione’s bindings with his trident. The Merchief waved Fleur over, and she rushed to Hermione’s side, thankful for the bubbles escaping her mouth.

“Heiress, cousin,” The Merchief said, laughter still playing at the edges of his tone. “You bring great honour to your flock, you may call me Murcus.”

“Murcus, cousin,” Fleur smiled, clinging desperately to Hermione, webbed fingers taking solace in the steady pulse at the girl’s neck. “You bring great honour to your tribe, please call me Fleur.”

Murcus’s attention was drawn to the entrance of the village, seeing things that Fleur could not make out. “Fleur, cousin, go with speed. Please, give our apologies to your Chosen. Many blessings.”

“Murcus, cousin, many thanks and blessings to you. I will tell my flock of your great honor.”

With a final nod, Fleur finally sped off, barely glancing backwards as Harry swam towards the square. In her arms, she kept Hermione close, not once thinking about the points, or the time limit of the Task. Hermione was pale, and still dressed in her school robes. Fleur wondered if she had been taken the night before. However, she must have only been placed in the Lake in the morning, as the Merpeople would not have allowed her to stay overnight.

As the surface came closer, Fleur cancelled the transfiguration on her fingers, allowing the webs to fade. Her vision became grainy, spell fading, but the surface was so close it no longer mattered. With one last push, she allowed her tail to morph back into two lean legs. Just before she broke the surface, she cancelled the transfiguration on her neck and lungs. As her head emerged, Fleur cast one last spell to expel the water left in her lungs, leaving a burning feeling in its wake.

Fleur gripped Hermione close as they both finally breathed in air. Hermione choked suddenly, coughing violently. The French witch panicked, holding Hermione above the water. Finally, the younger witch shuddered, blinking rapidly against the harsh light. Fleur could vaguely hear the screaming from the crowd, the cheers, and her fellow students singing as loud as they could.

“Fleur?” Hermione said weakly, starting to kick her own feet to keep them afloat.

_“Thank the Goddesses, ‘Ermione, you’re okay, you’re okay, je t’aime,”_ Fleur held onto her tighter, not caring of the tears that were streaming down her face.

“Hey, Fleur, _mon amour,_ I love you too, come on,” Hermione mumbled, stroking at Fleur’s braids. “I’m okay, we’re both okay, let’s get back to shore, hey?”

Fleur nodded, allowing Hermione to take some of her weight, feeling exhaustion settle into her very bones. They swam closer to the edge, stumbling at the transition from swimming to walking. Claire and Alexander rushed into the water, standing on opposite sides to help take their weight. 

Madam Pomfrey stood on the edge of the water, Maribel rocking next to her. As soon as they got close enough, towels were thrown over them. Claire and Alexander led them towards a bench, Fleur collapsing gratefully onto it. The movement, after so long with a tail, left her feeling weak. 

Maribel wrapped more towels around the pair, as Madam Pomfrey cast warming spells, and diagnostics. “Here, drink this, the pair of you,” the matron ordered, handing both girls a steaming potion. Hermione laughed when they drank it, steam billowing out of their ears.

“I’m so sorry,” Maribel mumbled, tears in her eyes. “Dumbledore never told anyone who the hostages were. He decided on Yule dates, and Mr Weasley. He never told us, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione replied softly, bringing the older Veela into a hug. It was made awkward by Fleur keeping Hermione practically on her lap, plus the Beauxbaton students surrounding them. “Fleur was brilliant. It’s not your fault.”

Maribel gave her a watery grin, pulling away from the hug. “Right, I’ll go let Ros know you’re okay. I love you.”

“Love you too,” Hermione said, a smile in place.

_“Auntie Mari,”_ Fleur called as the witch stood up. _“I spoke to the Merchieftainess, he kept ‘Ermione safe.”_

Maribel smiled, placing a kiss on both their heads. _“I’m so proud of you.”_

As the older Veela walked towards Ros, who was sitting on the edge of her seat anxiously at the Judges table, the other Beauxbaton students came even closer. 

_“You finished really quickly,”_ Angelique called out, _“You still had ten minutes on the clock.”_

_“Did you actually speak to the Merpeople?”_ One student asked, amazement in his voice.

_“Oui,”_ Fleur replied shyly. _“The Merchief is huge, but has a really loud laugh.”_

_“You always get to have all the fun,”_ Claire moaned teasingly, moving slightly to allow Gabrielle to climb into Fleur’s lap.

_“Can I speak to them Fleur?”_ The younger girl asked excitedly, wrapping Fleur in a hug.

_“What did you mean,”_ Hermione asked quietly, leaning against Fleur, _“when you said he kept me safe?”_

_“The Merpeople and Veela are distant cousins,”_ Alexander explained, as the rest of the delegation filed back to their seats. _“You’re Fleur’s Chosen, and they would recognise that.”_

_“Murcus wants me to give you his apologies,”_ Fleur continued, raining kisses on Hermione’s cheeks. _“Had he known you would be a hostage, he never would have agreed to it.”_

_“You got the Merchiefs name?”_ Claire asked in amazement.

_“He told me it when I said the blame wasn’t with him.”_

Alexander whistled lowly, although their attention was quickly drawn towards the water. Suddenly, Cedric Diggory broke the water, dragging Cho Chang with him. Fleur managed to make out a Bubblehead charm before it was spelled away. The Hogwarts students began a cheer at the sight of one of their Champions.

_“Weird,”_ Fleur muttered, pressing a kiss to Hermione’s head. _“‘Arry arrived there just as I left, and I was first.”_

“Maybe he got into trouble,” Hermione offered, settling closer to Fleur, who just shrugged in return.

Cedric and Cho were rushed onto a bench near the other Champion, Madam Pomfrey fretting around them both. Cedric had scratches over his chest and back, but insisted the mediwitch checked over Cho first.

With the other two Champions not breaking the water, Alexander turned to face Hermione. “You avoided eet zis morning,” he teased, “we were going to dress you in ze uniform. ‘Owever, do not worry, I bought ze ‘at wiz me!”

Hermione giggled, playfully swatting the older boy as he balanced the blue silk hat on her head. Fleur grinned broadly as the Hogwarts student made no move to remove the hat. Claire had put Fleur’s hat back on her, her own hat lopsided. Gabrielle amused herself with trying to put a braid at the end of Hermione’s hair.

Cheers broke out from the Durmstrang students suddenly. Their attention turned to the water, barely making out Viktor Krum breaking the water, the student in his arms wearing the school’s red uniform.

“Wonder w’o zat ees,” Alexander said, joining in the clapping. “Zee looks angry, would not want to meet ‘er in a dark alley.”

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked, eyes scanning the water. “We didn’t have a clue what to do when we left him.”

“W’en did zey take you?” Claire asked, as Fleur peppered more kisses to bushy hair.

“Last night,” Hermione replied absently. “We got told Professor McGonagall needed us, but when we got there, someone else hit us with a spell. Next thing I knew, Fleur was holding me afloat in the water.”

“Zey did not even tell you?” Fleur asked, a dangerous edge in her voice. “Zey just ‘it you wiz a zpell?”

Even Alexander and Claire looked furious at that, both turning to face Hermione straight on. She flushed under their gaze.

“No,” Hermione said slowly. “I just know it wasn’t Professor McGonagall, I was looking at her, she didn’t have her wand out.”

“‘Ermione,” Claire said carefully. “After zis ees done, you go tell your family zat. Do not argue wiz me. Zat ees not a good zing, no warning, no choice.”

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut at the look on the older girl’s face.

“And you tell zem about zat reporter too,” Claire added, leaving no room for arguments. Hermione just nodded in return.

Cheers started back up again, and Hermione, quick to avoid Claire’s wrath, spun around to face the water. Gabrielle jolted her hands away quickly, throwing a glare to the older student. Hermione joined in the cheers as Harry and Ron broke the surface. The cheering continued as the two made their way to the shore, Percy rushing forward to help them out of the shores.

Hermione went to stand up, but Fleur still had a tight grip around her waist. Thankfully, the two boys were rushed to the bench next to them, Hermione beaming at the pair.

“Harry,” Hermione cried, “well done! You did it, you found out a way by yourself!” The Gryffindor witch ignored the dramatic look Fleur playfully gave her.

“Well,” Harry said quietly, but his voice quickly became stronger. “Yeah, yeah I did, that’s right.”

_“‘Mi,”_ Gabrielle cut in suddenly, picking at something in her hair. _“You have a beetle in your hair.”_

_“I’ve got it,”_ Fleur said softly, flicking the beetle towards the water impatiently.

“You’re well outside the time limit though,” Hermione said, squeezing Gabrielle’s shoulder in thanks.

“Yeah mate,” Ron continued, “did it take you ages to find us or something?”

“No,” Harry said, deflating slightly. “No I found you okay, I just…” Harry let his sentence trail off, the attention now turning to where Dumbledore was crouched, speaking to the Merpeople in their scratchy voices, in the shores of the Lake..

“Zat ees Murcus,” Fleur whispered into Hermione’s hair, pointing subtly at the largest one. As Dumbledore rose and collected the Judges, Murcus raised his trident in a salute at Fleur and Hermione. The other Merpeople followed his lead, raising spears in a salute.

Fleur nodded in return, holding her wand up in a salute. Hermione nodded at the Merchief as well, giving him a smile and a small wave. Without any further fanfare, the Merpeople went back underwater. Gabrielle’s eyes were wide, babbling excitedly in French.

Finally, the Judges broke apart, Ludo Bagman’s voice echoing magically over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the Lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the Champions, as follows.”

_“He shouldn’t use Murcus’s name if he hasn’t been given it,”_ Fleur mumbled angrily into Hermione’s hair. In return, Hermione placed a hopefully calming kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Miss Fleur Delacour,” Bagman’s magically enhanced voice continued, “demonstrated incredible use of Human Transfiguration, was the first to arrive at the hostages, and return to the surface with her own hostage. She also returned with ten minutes remaining of the Task.” Ludo paused for dramatic effect, before continuing. “We have therefore decided to award her forty eight marks.”

Enormous cheers broke out from the Beauxbatons students, Hermione pulling her Champion in for a lingering kiss in celebration. Claire and Alexander both clapped Fleur hard on the back, Gabrielle swinging from her sister’s neck.

“In second place,” Bagman continued once the cheering had died down. “Was Mr Cedric Diggory, who used the Bubblehead Charm to great effect, was the second to return with his hostage. However, he returned one minute outside of the time limit. We therefore decided to award him forty five points.” 

Cheers started again, mostly from the Hufflepuffs. This time, however, they died again quickly, wanting to hear the last two scores.

“Mr Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Human Transfiguration, but it was nevertheless effective, returned third with his hostage, ten minutes outside the time limit. We therefore decided to award him forty points.”

More cheers from the Durmstrang, although they were a lot more subdued.

“Finally, Mr Harry Potter, who used Gillyweed to great effect. He returned last, twelve minutes outside of the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr Harry Potter was in fact, second to reach the hostages. His delay in his return was due to his determination to rescue the remaining hostages to safety, not merely his own.”

Bagman paused again, to build suspense, before continuing. “Most of the Judges feels like this shows outstanding moral fibre, and we have decided to award him forty four points.”

Cheers sprung up again, Ron clapping him on his back roughly. “You weren’t being thick at all Harry,” Ron cheered over the noise. “You were showing moral fibre!”

Hermione was clapping so hard her hands hurt, burrowing herself closer into Fleur.

“The third and final Task,” Bagman shouted over the noise, “will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The Champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your continued support of your Champions!”

Students began filing out whilst the Beauxbaton delegation started up their song again. Hermione pulled Fleur closer, uncaring of the public display of affection. 

“My Champion,” Hermione whispered against Fleur’s lips. The Gryffindor broke out in giggles as Fleur lifted and spun her around, uncaring of the eyes on them.


	23. Another Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything in italics is in French
> 
> This chapter starts right after the last one

Fleur settled Hermione back on the ground, still grinning widely at each other. 

_ “Fleur! ‘Ermione! Get back to the Carriage, get warmed up, and we’ll get the party ready!” _ A Beauxbaton student called from the crowd, to the cheers of other students.  _ “We need to go add the scores to the board anyway!” _

“Anything for a party, you French lot,” Hermione teased, tugging on one of Fleur’s braids.

“Zink about w’at eet will be w’en I win,  _ mon amour,” _ Fleur teased back, pressing kisses down Hermione’s jaw. The Champions eyes fell on the delicate silver chain, hidden below the collar.  _ “You still wear it?” _

Hermione gave her a smile, lifting the chain out of her robes.  _ “I never take it off. You seem very certain you will win, my Champion.” _

_ “I will win,”  _ Fleur replied strongly, placing another lingering kiss on Hermione.

By this point, most of the delegation had left, Alexander swinging Gabrielle over his back as they went, much to the younger girls delight. Claire, however, had stayed, and cleared her throat pointedly.  _ “As cute as you two are, ‘Ermione, you need to go speak to your family. I think they’re all arguing with your Headmaster again.” _

Hermione flushed slightly, but turned around all the same. Professor Dumbledore was sitting in his chair, unflinching. Ros had both her hands on the table in front of him, Maribel right next to her. Karkaroff stood off to the side of Ros, but seemed angry all the same. Madame Maxime was on Maribel’s side, gesturing widely. Ludo Bagman was standing next to Dumbledore, smiling slightly, and it seemed like he was trying to get a word in around the other Judges. Percy Weasley stood at the end of the table, hands clasped awkwardly behind his back.

_ “They must have put a silencing charm around them,” _ Fleur mused, nodding towards the other students still lingering to watch the adults.

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood, holding a hand up wearily. He motioned towards the castle, and the rest nodded stiffly. Ros and Maribel immediately turned, rushing over to where Hermione was standing. Fleur let go of the Gryffindor’s waist as the pair came closer, allowing for Ros and Maribel to pull Hermione into their arms. Maribel gave Hermione a smile as she pulled back, adjusting the blue hat still on her head.

“I’m sorry ‘Mione,” Ros mumbled, holding Hermione by the shoulders still. “Albus didn’t see fit to tell anybody who the hostages were. Or even that it would be students.”

“It’s alright Ros,” Hermione said softly, forcing a smile onto her face. “No harm no foul, right?”

Claire gave a pointed cough behind them. Ros and Maribel both narrowed their eyes slightly. “What’s wrong?” Maribel asked carefully.

Hermione threw an annoyed look over her shoulder, Claire looking at the sky aimlessly. “Nothing bad -”

“‘Ermione,” Claire warned lightly, still studying the clear sky.

The Gryffindor flushed, but Ros held Hermione’s gaze, a finger holding her chin in place. “What happened, Hermione?” Ros asked slowly.

Hermione deflated under the gaze, scuffing her foot along the ground. “They didn’t tell us either,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Maribel said, sounding not very sorry at all. “They didn’t tell you what,  _ exactly?” _

“Last night,” Hermione sighed, still mumbling. “Ron and I got sent to Professor McGonagall’s office, but when we got there, someone else hit us with a spell. When I woke up, Fleur was holding me in the water.”

Maribel swore loudly in French, a snarl breaking free of her throat.  _ “That man, I’m going to kill him!”  _ Hermione’s eyes widened, taking a small step back, watching as Maribel’s eyes flickered to a dazzling gold, her nails extending and sharpening slightly.

Ros placed a hand on Maribel’s arm softly, using her other arm to pull Hermione in for another hug. “We’ll kill him,” Ros corrected her wife, forcing her voice to be calm. “The least he could’ve done would’ve been telling you. I bet he didn’t tell Karkaroff’s student either, the girl was furious coming out of the bloody water. I’ll get the Board involved, do everything I can, that bloody  _ fuc-” _

“I don’t know if it was Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione admitted quickly, her head resting on Ros’s shoulder. “It wasn’t Professor McGonagall, she didn’t have her wand out.”

Ros sighed, placing a kiss on Hermione’s forehead. “It doesn’t matter. Not only is it cowardly and pathetic,” she spat out the last word, “but you never signed to be part of the Tournament. Fleur and the Champions, yes, but you never agreed to any part beyond watching. I respect the man, sure, but he’s losing his bloody marbles if this was his idea.” 

Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip, focussing intently on the floor. She shrugged her shoulders listlessly, feeling like a small child. Maribel was alternating threats in both French and English. At one point she said something in a different language completely, that caused Fleur to gasp sharply. She could feel Claire’s stare on her back, waiting for the other issue to be aired out.

“There’s something else,” Hermione said softly, cutting across Maribel’s threats. Both older witches held their breath. Maribel moved closer, using one hand to cup Hermione’s face and pull it up, facing them.

“What else?” Ros asked carefully, both witches putting a lid quickly on their tempers.

“I had a run in with Rita Skeeter,” Hermione said quickly, as if ripping off a plaster. “In the Three Broomsticks, a few weeks ago.”

“How bad?” Maribel prompted, her voice measured. Hermione shrugged silently.

“‘Ermione called ‘er a ‘orrible woman,” Claire answered when Hermione hesitated. “Zat reporter zen implied zomezing was ‘appening between Fleur, ‘Ermione, and ‘Arry Potter. Eet was not very pretty, but ze w’ole pub was watc’ing.”

“She hasn’t done anything,” Hermione quickly added. “It was at the last Hogsmeade weekend, and if she was going to do anything surely she would’ve done it already, right?”

“Reporters can hold a grudge, and I’ve seen Skeeter wait a year before pouncing,” Ros sighed, stroking at Hermione’s face. “She is a horrible woman, but I’m not sure if I agree with your lack of subtlety,” Ros laughed forcibly, giving Hermione a wink.

“In ‘Ermione’s defence,” Fleur cut in, softly pressing a hand to her lower back. “‘Arry got ‘er attention first, by zhouting ‘alfway across ze room. ‘E truly lacks any tact, not my ‘Ermione.”

Maribel and Ros both laughed at that, before Ros suddenly turned a lot more serious. “‘Mione, I’ll get the Prophet on side. Stop anything being dragged out.”

Hermione shook her head, “you don’t need to. I don’t - I mean,” she sighed. “I don’t care what she writes about me in her little articles, this is why I didn’t want to tell you, I feel like I’m  _ using _ you -”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Ros cut across sharply. “You’re not using me, at all, alright? You’re part of my family, and I’m not going to let that stupid woman do anything to you. I’d do the same for any of you, you’re all my children, and I’d be a crap mum if I let anything happen.”

“We’d both be crap mums,” Maribel corrected softly. “You’re our daughter, and this is part of the package, we protect you. I just wish you told us sooner,  _ ma  _ _ chérie.” _

“ I told ‘er to zink like a pureblood,” Claire muttered behind them.

“Also,” Ros said playfully. “The Ravenclaw name has a lot of sway, still, hence why I didn’t have to take Beaufort!”

Maribel laughed, her eyes finally settling on blue with a hint of gold. She whacked Ros on the arm weakly. “I think we’ve kept the girls long enough,” Maribel said, her eyes flitting to where Claire and Fleur still stood, albeit awkwardly. “I’m sure Beauxbatons will celebrate in style. Fleur, have one on me, okay?”

Fleur nodded, a grin breaking across her face.  _ “Merci auntie.” _

“I take it ‘Mione’s going with you?” Ros asked the pair, knocking Hermione’s Beauxbaton hat sideways. At their nods, Ros grinned. “If I have to hear Olympe say one more thing about signing Hermione’s transfer, we’ll all be having words, got it?”

Claire gave the older witch a dramatic bow, Fleur rolling her eyes. “But Madame Ravenclaw,” Claire said teasingly. “Eet ees not our fault if Beauxbatons ees a better choice,  _ non?” _

Ros sighed, waving her hand. “Fine, fine, Hermione you’re not allowed to transfer, okay?” When the three students laughed, both adults smiled at each other. “Right, we’ve got to go have a  _ small chat _ with Albus, and then I’ll head over to the Prophet, get Barnabas Cuffe to deal with any of Skeeter’s articles.”

Hermione nodded, a little teary-eyed. She had never wanted to use Ros, and despite their assurances, it still very much felt like that. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” Maribel said softly, stroking the hair out of her face. “We love you.”

“I love you both too,” Hermione mumbled.

“Go on then,” Ros prompted, knocking Maribel’s hand as she went to straighten Hermione’s hat. “We’ll go deal with Albus and Skeeter. I’ll never hear the end of it if I make Beauxbatons wait any longer for their party.”

All three students nodded, Fleur quickly pulling Hermione back into her side. With one last farewell, they made their way to the Carriage, Hermione tucked in between the two older girls.

As soon as the trio had entered the Carriage, Fleur and Hermione were rushed upstairs. They were told, in no uncertain terms, to have a bath and then come back down. Someone had shouted that they weren’t to play around, to which Fleur flipped her finger as they went up the stairs.

Once in Fleur’s room, Hermione realised a slight problem. “Uh, Fleur?”

_ “Oui?” _

“Oh,” Hermione sighed, perching on the bed. “This is going to sound right silly, but I don’t have any clothes here.”

Fleur, half peeling off her cloak, paused, blinking owlishly at Hermione. After a beat, Fleur burst out laughing, Hermione quickly following suit.  _ “I don’t even know why I’m laughing,” _ Fleur managed to get out, in between peals of laughter.

“I told you it was silly,” Hermione choked out, finally regaining control.

“‘Ere,” Fleur gasped, taking deep breaths. “You can wear mine, I zink I ‘ave zomezing... Got eet!”

Fleur threw a pair of joggers over, followed by her Quidditch jersey. Hermione ran her fingers over the DELACOUR on the back, underneath which was 05. “You can baz first,” Fleur continued, motioning to the bathroom. “You were in ze Lake longer zan me.”

Hermione nodded, quickly heading into the ensuite. A short while later, she emerged, her school robes flung over her shoulder. The Gryffindor bit her lip at the sight in front of her. Fleur was sitting at her desk, writing idly on a piece of parchment. Her silver swimming costume was thrown in a corner, and instead she had draped a silk dressing gown on, loosely tied around her waist.

“I started running the bath for you,” Hermione said shyly, her face flushing. Fleur looked up, smirking at Hermione dressed in her clothes.

_“You look adorable,_ _mon amour,”_ Fleur said, eyes raking over the younger girl. “Zank you for running eet.”

Hermione nodded, watching as Fleur stretched her arms over her head, causing the robe to open a little more. She bit at her lip, as Fleur’s smirk grew further.  _ “See something you like?” _ Fleur teased, clearing the parchment and recapping her ink.

Hermione’s eyes snapped up to Fleurs, drawn into the dark blue gaze. Her throat was suddenly very dry, and Hermione watched as Fleur’s eyes followed the path of her tongue, wetting dry lips. “Maybe,” Hermione managed to draw out, very quietly.

Fleur hummed, almost stalking closer. One hand gripped the Quidditch jersey, the other tangled itself in still wet hair. Time seemed to stop as their lips met each other hungrily, Hermione’s heart pounding in her chest. The necklace around her neck just seemed to continue to grow warmer, as they pulled each other even closer.

Hermione let one of her hands grip at the back of Fleur’s neck, drawing the taller girl impossibly closer. Her other hand was more uncertain, skating lightly over Fleur’s back. They both pulled back briefly, gulping in air, before they joined together again. Fleur’s hand moved, reaching to place Hermione’s hand firmly just above her belt, before moving back to the jersey.

They spun around slowly, Fleur guiding Hermione backwards. They broke apart again, breathing deeply, when Hermione knocked into the desk, falling onto it unceremoniously. Fleur took the opportunity to suck and nip lightly at the skin over Hermione’s pulse point. It was only when Hermione let a low moan fall from her throat did Fleur pull away.

There was a beat, a pause, where both girls looked at each other. Studying the flushed faces, and heaving chests. Fleur’s eyes were black, the tiniest hint of blue remaining.

Fleur screwed her eyes closed, her hands shaking slightly against Hermione. In return, the younger girl stayed still, letting Fleur regain some control. When Fleur opened her eyes again, they were a dark blue, and she let out a slow exhale.

“I zink,” Fleur said quietly, “eet ees best if I go for a baz now,  _ mon amour.” _

Hermione nodded, her throat parched again. She watched Fleur walk stiffly towards the bathroom. As the older girl went to close the door, Hermione called out, in her sweetest voice. “Fleur? You forgot to lend me any underwear.”

Fleur’s breathing hitched, eyes flicking down briefly. When their eyes met again, Fleur’s were back to black. Barely audible, Fleur growled, before shutting the door the rest of the way. 

Hermione gripped the edge of the desk once the door closed. Trying to get her breathing back under control. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, wincing when it caught on a knot.

Sighing, the younger girl picked up a hairbrush, working through the knots robotically. Once that was finished, Hermione located her wand and holster from the pile of robes dropped in the middle of the floor. Flicking her wand, she folded the robes and settled them on the chair, before slipping it back into her holster. The holster then went to the bedside cabinet, on what was always Hermione’s side.

Finally, Fleur emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head. She was dressed in a pair of tight black leggings, and a T-Shirt. Hermione couldn’t help the giggle that escaped, Fleur raising an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in something so muggle,” Hermione replied, a wide smile in place.

“A lot of ze ztudents wear muggle clozes,” Fleur shrugged. “Eet ees more comfortable zan wearing robes all ze time.”

“I think you look amazing,” Hermione said, feeling more emboldened from their earlier encounter.

Fleur’s eyes zeroed in on the side of Hermione’s neck, a smirk fixed. “I zink you look adorable.  _ Also, I might’ve left a small mark on your neck.” _

Hermione’s eyes widened, rushing past a now laughing Fleur, to look in the bathroom mirror. Frowning, she turned her head to glimpse at the blossoming bruise over her pulse point.

“I can get rid of eet, if zat ees w’at you want,” Fleur offered, leaning against the doorway. “But I zink eet makes up for your forgotten underwear,  _ oui?” _

“Leave it,” Hermione whispered shyly, tugging at the collar of the jersey. “I don’t mind it.”

Fleur’s grin grew further, moving to hold the younger girl from behind. Hermione tucked her head into Fleur’s neck, and they looked at each other through the mirror happily. Fleur delicately pulled the necklace out of the jersey, letting it rest on top of the material.

Eventually, Fleur sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Hermione’s head. “I zink we zould go down,  _ mon amour _ , ozerwize zey will come up ‘ere.”

“They’re not drinking already, are they?” Hermione asked nervously. “It’s not even lunch, is it?”

_ “Mon amour,  _ we are French. Zey are drinking already,” Fleur smirked. “But I want you to eat first, you ‘ave not ‘ad breakfast, after all. Madame Maxime would ‘ave arranged a buffet.”

Hermione nodded, letting Fleur pull her close for a final kiss, before they made their way out of the room. As soon as they stood on the top step, music blared. Clearly, a silencing charm had been placed on the upper level. Cheers started as the two descended the stairs, music hastily turned off. The cheers continued as the two were ushered onto a table in the middle of the main room, all the students in comfortable muggle clothing.

As two wine glasses were pushed into their hands. Alexander jumped on a chair, in front of a chalkboard, Gabrielle clapping on his shoulders.

_ “Finally!”  _ He cheered,  _ “our Champion and her Hostage grace us with their presence! May we please give a cheer to our Beauxbaton Champion, the one and only, Fleur Delacour!” _

The students cheered again, raising their glasses. Hermione blushed slightly, Fleur wrapping an arm around her waist. At that moment, however, the Carriage door opened, Madame Maxime stepping in gracefully. She stared around the silent room, seemingly very weary, before sighing and summoning a glass of wine with a wave of her fingers.

Alexander, to his credit, did not skip a beat, and continued.  _ “Fleur Delacour scored a lovely forty eight points, and saved her damsel in distress, ‘Ermione with time to spare! Fleur, any words for your beloved supporters?” _

Fleur rolled her eyes, but raised her wine glass all the same.  _ “Thank you all for your support, the Cup is in our sights now!” _

The students cheered again, all drinking from their glasses. Hermione playfully tapped Fleur’s glass with her own, before they both sipped. Even Gabrielle sipped from her glass, on Alexander’s shoulders, although Hermione noted it was only orange juice.

_ “Ah yes,” _ Alexander continued, grinning wildly at the delegation.  _ “The Third Task. Next week I’ll put up the rota of when everyone will be Fleur’s target practise!”  _ The delegation booed at that, but he waved it away.  _ “No arguments, I’m tired of her throwing me on my arse, you all can help. But for now, our dear Madame Maxime, any of your wise words for your humble students?” _

Maxime gave a throaty laugh, eyeing her delegation with pride shining.  _ “Miss Delacour, I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we could not have wished for a better performance today. For once, in your seven years under my care, I can write home to your mother with pride, rather than another story of what trouble you’ve wrecked in our halls!” _ Hermione looked sideways at Fleur, who flushed slightly.  _ “To Fleur Delacour!” _

_ “To Fleur!” _ The students cheered back, toasting their glasses once again.

_ “Thank you, Madame Maxime,” _ Alexander called, drawing the attention back to him.  _ “Now is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, the points!” _ With a wave of his wand, the chalkboard behind him showed all four champions names, with their points from the First Task next to it.  _ “Let’s start with the home Champions. Cedric Diggory scored forty five points today, taking his total to eight three, give him a cheer, folks!” _

A small cheer quickly rose and died down.  _ “‘Arry Potter’s forty four points today takes him to eighty four, another cheer folks, he’s only young!” _ Another cheer, rising and falling just as fast.  _ “The Durmstrang Seeker turned Champion, Viktor Krum, gained himself a round forty points, taking his total up to eighty, a good showing!” _ Another cheer again, dying faster than the previous two. Even Fleur seemed nervous, gripping tightly to Hermione’s waist.

_ “Finally,” _ Alexander said slowly, building his momentum.  _ “Our very own Fleur Delacour. Last, but definitely not least, gained an incredible, amazing, fantastic forty eight points! When we add that to her total, we get a fantastic - drum roll please!” _

Alexander paused, wincing slightly as Gabrielle repeatedly hit his head in her drum roll. Even Madame Maxime joined in, albeit rolling her eyes at the same time.  _ “Fleur Delacour, you have a total of eighty… seven points!” _

Fleur relaxed against Hermione at that, who was cheering along with the Beauxbaton students at the scores. Finally, Alexander gained some control back over the crowd. _“Let’s change this board up, right! Coming in last, Krum! Diggory rolls in third, Potter just ahead in second. That leaves Fleur in first place_ _by a mile!_ ”

More cheers erupted, a few even singing the school song.  _ “Now, let’s party the afternoon away, and before you say anything Madame, yes we know not to leave the Carriage! Fleur, you must be so hungry, but please avoid eating ‘Ermione’s neck any further!” _

Hermione’s face blushed brightly, giving an awkward laugh as she buried herself in Fleur’s side. Both girls were finally allowed off the table, immediately drawn into the crowd of students. The music came back on full blast, the students enjoying their afternoon of freedom and celebrating their win.


	24. Rita Skeeter's Scoop

Hermione woke up the day after the Second Task slowly. So slowly, in fact, she thought she might still be dreaming. She could feel Fleur’s arm tightly wound around her waist, their legs entangled together. And for the first time since she started staying in the Carriage, Hermione woke up without Gabrielle jumping on them.

The Gryffindor slipped out of the bed, smiling softly as Fleur mumbled before tucking herself against Hermione’s pillow. Hermione padded to the bathroom, frowning as she pulled a blue ribbon from her hair. The party had lasted surprisingly long, Fleur having to give a detailed retelling of her performance at one point. Even Madame Maxime had stayed for most of the afternoon. 

The Headmistress had pulled Hermione aside at one point, much to Fleur’s annoyance. However, Maxime had apologised profusely for Hermione’s involvement, and summerised that Ros and Maribel were still arguing with Dumbledore, but they will catch up with her during the week.

Splashing her face with water, Hermione left the bathroom, thankful for potions that stopped any hangovers. Hermione mused that Fleur may be a slightly bad influence, given that this was the second time she had been drinking underage, and attending a party where she definitely should not be. Those thoughts quickly left her head when she spied Fleur still in bed.

_ “You left me,” _ Fleur said quietly, her voice heavy with sleep. She had sat up in the bed, hugging Hermione’s pillow to her chest. Her hair was tousled, the covers bunched around her waist.

_ “Sorry,” _ Hermione replied, moving to sit next to the older girl on the bed.  _ “I woke up.” _

Fleur pouted, reaching to grab Hermione’s top and pull her closer.  _ “You should’ve stayed in bed mon amour. I missed you.” _

Hermione chuckled quietly, giving Fleur a small smile in apology.  _ “I was gone for five minutes, Fleur.” _

“Not ze point,” Fleur grumbled, wrapping them together.  _ “For the first time, Gabby hasn’t woken us up, but instead you leave me, not fair!” _

Hermione stroked Fleur’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll be okay.”

“You will ‘ave to make eet up,” Fleur grinned against Hermione’s neck.

Hermione hummed, before shaking her head. “I’m afraid I can’t today,  _ ma  _ _ chérie, _ I’m meeting Malcolm and Emma before dinner, just to go over their Astronomy essays.”

Fleur pouted, leaning backwards to give Hermione her best puppy dog expression. Fleur, and by extension the Beauxbaton students, were the only ones Hermione had told about tutoring the two first years. 

“You will come back tonight?” Fleur asked, her pout still firmly in place.

“It is Saturday,” Hermione teased, tugging on a blonde strand playfully.

That seemed enough to appease the Veela, pulling Hermione in for a deep kiss.

Hermione had escaped the Carriage at lunch, having had to borrow some more clothes off Fleur, much to her amusement. After a brief stop off in her own room, dropping off her robes, Hermione met up with Harry and Ron. Ron, it turns out, was telling everyone who would listen a dramatic retelling of the Second Task, which was slowly turning more and more into rescuing himself, and fighting off a horde of Merpeople.

True to her word, after her tutoring session with Malcolm and Emma, who were making huge leaps and bounds in their own work, Hermione spent another night in the Carriage. Sunday also passed in a blur, seeing more of her own family that afternoon.

It was on Monday where things went downhill.

“Hey Hermione,” Parvati called nervously, sitting down opposite the girl during breakfast, Lavender following suit. For once, Hermione was sitting alone during meals.

“Morning,” Hermione replied cheerfully, ignorant of the tone used. Since she had started staying in the Carriage, Hermione’s friendship with her two roommates had improved. Neither really cared whether or not Hermione stayed in her bed, and as far as she could tell, the pair had also stopped any rumours about her floating around Hogwarts.

“We uh, we wanted to show you something,” Lavender said uneasily, clutching the new issue of Witch Weekly to her chest. “Before you found out from someone else.”

Hermione frowned as Lavender passed over the magazine, already open in the middle. Her frown turned to surprise, then anger as she read the article.

_ POTTER’S SECRET HEARTACHE _

_ A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen year old Harry Potter thought that he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss. _

_ Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste that Harry Potter alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of one Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbaton Champion, and part-Veela, Miss Granger has been toying with both’s affection. As I’m sure many of you may know, the Delacour family is incredibly influential in France. Delacour is openly smitten with Miss Granger, and was the one to rescue her during the Second Task. _

_ However, we do have to wonder whether Miss Granger is toying with the pair of Champions for their background. Having dug a little deeper into Miss Granger’s background, there were quite a few things that should be brought to attention. _

_ Firstly, it turns out that Miss Granger is not, as she says, living with her Muggle parents. Instead, it seems that she has been adopted by none other than the Ravenclaw family - a prominent Pureblooded family. This then begs the question - where is her parents to cause such a move? _

_ It turns out, my dear readers, that Miss Granger’s parents moved away during her first year at Hogwarts, leading to her being taken in by the Ravenclaws. Perhaps, as an attempt to satisfy Miss Granger’s craving ambitious nature, did she ask her parents to move away? In return, perhaps Miss Granger is sending them money, taken from the Ravenclaw family. That is the biggest question, it seems.  _

_ We do have to ask, does Lady Ravenclaw know of Miss Granger’s background? Her need for climbing the social ladder does hint at an unhinged witch. We recommend Lady Ravenclaw to dig further into her background, and remove the adoption even. _

_ Regardless, it seems doubtful that it was Miss Granger’s natural charms that ensured both Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour. In an interview with one of her schools mates, Pansy Parkinson had the following to say: _

_ “She’s really ugly, but she’d be well-up to making a Love Potion. She’s quite brainy, I think that’s how she’s doing it.” _

_ Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts. We believe that Albus Dumbledore will no doubt look into these claims. In the meantime, we recommend to be wary of Miss Granger suddenly offering friendship. We also recommend both Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour stay away from Miss Granger. Harry Potter’s well-wishers must hope, next time, that he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate. _

Hermione held the magazine in her hands, wanting no more than to rip the stupid thing in half. She read through it again, wanting to make sure exactly what she was reading. Clenching her jaw, she handed it back to Lavender. “Thank you,” Hermione spat out through her teeth.

“We, er, we know it’s fake,” Parvati offered, exchanging a concerned look with Lavender.

“No,” Hermione frowned, trying to get control over her temper. “Some of it is true. The Ravenclaws did adopt me. But when did I ever say who I lived with? And how did she get that much information?”

“Really?” Lavender asked, surprised. “I mean, I’ve seen you with them a few times, but I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Hermione eyed Gryffindor’s resident gossipers wearily. “This doesn’t get spread around.” At their nods, she continued. “The Grangers didn’t pick me up after our first year. Clearly couldn’t deal with a witch in the family. They officially adopted me at the start of this year.”

“Merlin, Granger,” Lavender sighed apologetically, whilst Parvati gasped. “That’s rough, sorry.”

Hermione shrugged, her anger still boiling beneath the surface. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I want to know how  _ she _ found out. It’s all Ministry secured, adoption papers and the like.”

“We’ll control the rumour mill,” Parvati offered tentatively. “Stop this from getting out of control. Make it clear you’re obviously with Delacour, and how can you be deranged if you’re so smart.” Parvati finished, tapping at her neck pointedly.

“Yeah,” Lavender jumped in. “We’ve got your back, Granger.”

Gritting her teeth, Hermione stood up from the table, thanking the pair one last time before leaving the Hall. She got halfway through the Entrance Hall when Eve caught up with her, pulling her into a side room unceremoniously.

“‘Mione,” Eve started slowly, eyeing the obvious anger on the younger girl.

“No Eve,” Hermione cut in sharply. “I need to find out exactly how Skeeter got her information, and then I’m going to kill her.”

“Hermione,” Eve repeated, this time stronger, keeping a hold on her arm. “Think about this, owl Ros now.”

“‘Mione?” Luke said, stepping into the room, eyeing the two witches carefully. “I think we should have a family meeting, we’ve still got time before the first lesson.”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head violently. “Once I’ve dealt with her.”

“No ‘Mione,” Eve sighed this time. “Luke go get everyone, we’ll deal with her  _ together, _ okay?”

Luke reappeared a few minutes later, the rest of their siblings in tow. 

“I’ve never been happier to be early for breakfast,” Katie joked, helping move the desks so they could all sit together.

“We’re not going to let her get away with it,” Amy said strongly, her eyes darting around the group. “We’ll show Skeeter some Ravenclaw hospitality, shall we?”

“She comes after one of us, she comes after all of us,” Evan added.

“Firstly,” Eve cut back in, “we need to owl Ros and Maribel. They need to know.”

Hermione sighed, drawing the attention back to her. “I spoke to them after the Second Task. I had a run in with Skeeter on the last Hogsmeade weekend. They said they’ll get the Prophet on side, to stop any articles. Clearly, it just made her more suspicious. None of us thought about Witch Weekly.”

“That’s fine,” Katie jumped in. “Ros and Maribel can get them to print an apology, and withdraw the article.”

“The damage is done,” Hermione argued sternly. “As I told Ros and Maribel, I don’t care what she prints, but I do want to know how she’s found out.”

“She’s banned from the school,” Amy mused thoughtfully. “How is she getting these interviews.”

“Invisibility cloak?” Luke offered.

“I’ll ask Professor Moody,” Eve said. “I’ve got him first. See if he's seen anything.”

“Right, you do that,” Amy nodded, taking charge as the oldest of the siblings. “I’ll send an owl to Ros, I’ve got a free period first. Luke, you’re good with the rumour mill -”

“Lavender and Parvati are dealing with it,” Hermione cut in, her anger abating. “But I don’t care if people know I’m adopted.”

“That’s fine, ‘Mione,” Katie said softly, glancing at the family for support. “But as a family, we’re going to deal with this together. Luke can help with rumours, travels faster if it comes from two houses.”

“You just focus on class,” Eve rubbed a hand up and down her arms comfortingly.

“No, I can help,” Hermione insisted. “I need to help, I’m not letting  _ her _ affect me. We need to get dirt on Skeeter.”

“Blackmail her?” Eddie asked with a smirk. “I like where this is going.”

“Exactly,” Hermione smirked back. “We get the dirt on her, get Skeeter to hold her quill. She’ll regret this article.”

“We’ll remind her not to mess with the Ravenclaws,” Eddie corrected gently. “As a family, we’ll blackmail this bitch.”

Amy grinned evilly. “We’ll dig up everything on her. I’ll owl Martin after I’ve sent Ros a note. He’s working as part of the Auror department now, he’ll have access to files.”

By the time the warning bell rang, the Ravenclaw family had a plan in place. Hermione joined Harry and Ron as they crossed the Hall on the way to Potions, feeling much happier than she did earlier.

Hermione’s happiness was shrinking, however, as the morning went on. It seemed that more students read Witch Weekly than she originally thought. By the time dinner had started, Hermione was more annoyed than when she first read the article. During Potions, when Pansy had taken it upon herself to read the article aloud, Ron had claimed it sounded that Hermione was some sort of “scarlet woman”. However, students actively avoided her in the hallways.

The entire Beauxbaton delegation, after having read the article, made a point of sitting with Hermione in their ranks during lunch. Fleur, Claire, and Alexander all walked Hermione to and from her lessons, even when some of her family had joined them in their travels. Hermione had tried to claim that they did not need to, but none of them were to be deterred.

“‘Mione,” Katie said, as she hesitantly approached the Beauxbaton delegation during dinner. “Family meeting, Ros and Maribel have come.”

“‘Ermione needs to eat,” Arthur replied calmly, sitting opposite Fleur and Hermione. “Zee will zee you after.”

“It’s fine,” Hermione said softly, giving Fleur a kiss as she stood up. “I’ll see you all tomorrow?”

_ “Je t’aime ‘Ermione,” _ Fleur said, handing over the Gryffindor’s backpack.

“I love you too,” Hermione replied, smiling wildly. “Thank you.”

“We will zee you in ze Carriage later,” Claire corrected. “To talk about zis.”

Hermione nodded, following Katie after the delegation all offered their goodbyes. Fleur had not mentioned the article all day, as the Beauxbaton students were constantly in the castle. It was at lunch when they said they would speak about the article in the Carriage that night, when alone.

“When did they get here?” Hermione asked Katie, as they climbed the stairs.

“Not sure,” Katie admitted, “I don’t think it was that long ago, I wouldn't put it past Ros to pull rank and pull us all from classes if they arrived earlier.”

They continued in silence, entering the Room of Requirement as the door appeared. Like on Christmas Eve, it was designed to look like their living room. Immediately, Hermione was pulled into both Ros’s and Maribel’s arms, and shuffled onto the sofas. The rest of the siblings were already here.

“‘Mione,” Ros began, once they were all sitting. “I’m so sorry, I never thought she would go to Witch Weekly, or even continue once we’ve got involved. I think I made it worse, almost. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really,” Hermione said softly. She tugged painfully on her lip before continuing. “You guys do know that I’m not - I mean, I’m. I didn’t ask for them to move away, and I’m not sending them anything.”

“Sweetie,” Ros interrupted gently. “We know that, of course. You would never. We never thought, and will never will think that.”

Hermione was bordering on tears, clutching at her sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause this much mess, and it’s my fault -”

“No it’s not,” Amy cut in sharply, leaning forward. “Don’t even go there, ‘Mione.”

“Amy’s right,” Eddie added. “It’s not your fault, it’s Skeeters. And she’s going to regret it.”

“I don’t want to know any illegal thing you’re all doing,” Ros sighed, closing her eyes. “Discuss it when we’re gone, so we can provide albis if you all get caught.”

Eve gave Ros a knowing smile. “We’ll never get caught, but deal.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Maribel said, pulling Hermione in for a hug. “We would’ve been here first thing, but we got Witch Weekly to redact the article. There isn’t anything that can do for people who already have copies, but nobody further can get it.”

“They’re also printing a formal apology in next week’s issue,” Ros continued, reopening her eyes. “I threatened them with a defamation of character case. Scared them enough to agree to everything we said. Skeeter will struggle printing anything through them for a while.”

“Enough time for you children to do whatever activities you’ve got planned,” Maribel added pointedly, whilst her wife sighed deeply.

“How’re the students treating you?” Ros asked.

Hermione shrugged. “Half and half. Most are actively avoiding me. Ron said it made it seem I was a scarlet woman. My roommates are helping control the rumour mill.”

“The Beauxbatons have made a point of sitting with Hermione in the middle,” Evan added, giving Maribel a teasing smile.

“One of them, Annie or something, hexed a boy after Charms, for repeating part of the article,” Eve remarked. “Fast with her wand, I had barely turned around when Smith hit the floor.”

“Did she actually?” Hermione asked, eyes wide. “I thought it was just solidarity when I’m with them, or something.”

“Beauxbaton students stick together,” Maribel said smugly. “You’re one of them, so they’ll look out for you.”

Ros sighed, once again, shaking her head.

“Anybody who’s discussed it near us we’ve hexed,” Luke continued. “Unless someone else has got there first.”

“Just don’t get in trouble,” Ros complained, although she did seem proud of the students. 

“I’ll send some of the books from home,” Maribel offered, smiling widely. “Can’t have my children repeating hexes, can I?”

“I can’t believe you’re encouraging this,” Ros moaned half-heartedly. “I’m on the  _ Board, _ I can’t hear any of this.”

“I meant to improve their skills,” Maribel corrected.  _ “Obviously _ not to use on fellow students.”

“I don’t want anyone to get in trouble,” Hermione mumbled. “Not over this, it’s not worth it.”

“You’re worth it,” Eddie said firmly, echoed quickly by the rest of her siblings.

“You should join in,” Katie grinned. “I’ve seen your hexes, proper creative.”

“Please,” Ros said tiredly. “Discuss this once I’ve gone. Please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Amy teased, mock saluting.

“But seriously,” Ros continued. “If any of you have any issues, let us know, please. Even once you’ve left Hogwarts, you’re still our kids, and we’ll protect you. It’s not a burden.”

“This is the most excitement I’ve had for years,” Maribel grinned. “We normally just deal with Ministry idiots, and charity functions whilst you’re all at school.”

Ros muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like  _ “I make our life exciting.” _

“On a different story,” Maribel said loudly, glaring at Ros. “We had a  _ little _ chat with Albus, ‘Mione. He is well aware of  _ exactly _ what he did wrong. We made that very clear.”

__

“He’s also had an official warning from the Board,” Ros added. “I called an emergency meeting that afternoon. One more toe out of line, and he’s packing.”

__

“Thank you,” Hermione mumbled, her face flushing slightly.

After a more general catch up, Ros and Maribel said their goodbyes, ‘love yous’ passed around by everyone, and a giant group hug.

“Right, let’s get down to business,” Amy said, once the door closed.

“To defeat the Huns!” Eddie and Katie cheered.

“To defeat Skeeter,” Amy continued, glaring at the pair. “Martin sent an owl back, he’s on board dealing with Skeeter. He’s off work until Friday, though. Lily’s furious, but she’s made some friends at Gringotts, looking in at that angle. They’ve also told Hannah and Mike. Hannah has already had Skeeter digging around the Falcons, so the whole team is annoyed with her. She said that she’s going to poke around, see if anyone has anything on her. Mike’s obviously helping at Gringotts.”

“Brilliant,” Hermione muttered. “This seems like a lot of bother for them.”

“We’re a  _ family,” _ Eve emphasised. “We deal with her as a family.”

Hermione nodded, gnawing at her lip again. “Did Moody say anything about cloaks?”

“No,” Eve sighed. “He said he hasn’t seen anything. Said he’ll keep an eye out regardless, just in case.”

“Well, that just leaves other options,” Evan nodded.

After some more brainstorming, the siblings eventually left, Hermione being reminded by Katie that she was to go to the Carriage.

Steeling herself, Hermione opened the Carriage door.

The entire delegation was mulling around the main room. Fleur immediately leapt up, pulling Hermione in for a hug and a deep kiss.

“You took a w’ile,” Claire commented as the pair broke apart.

“Yeah, we had a lot to discuss,” Hermione said shyly, allowing herself to be sat down in the middle of the room. “Witch Weekly has pulled the article, and are putting an apology out next week.”

There was a general murmur of agreement throughout the room, but it quickly settled again.

“W’at else,  _ mon amour,” _ Fleur asked, draping herself over the Gryffindor.

Hermione shrugged self-consciously. She had spent the past four years dealing with issues by herself. Being the one to find the solutions. Now, she had her entire family, plus apparently the Beauxbaton students, all willing to help.

“We’re trying to work out how exactly she’s getting her interviews,” Hermione finally replied. “She’s not really allowed on the grounds, but she’s not using an invisibility cloak.”

“We will ‘elp find ideas,” Alexander said, nodding to the students. 

_ “I want to be a spy too!” _ Gabrielle called out, having settled herself between two of the girls, who were braiding her hair.  _ “I’ll be an amazing spy!” _

_ “Of course you will be,” _ one of the girls encouraged, smiling brightly at the young girl.

“W’at are we doing in ze meantime,” Arthur asked. “A lot of ze ztudents believe zat crap.”

“We stay toget’er,” Fleur said firmly. “‘Ermione ees wiz us if zee ees not wiz ‘er friends or family.”

_ “We curse anyone who quotes it, obviously,” _ another student muttered, to the agreement of the others.

_ “I do not want anyone getting in trouble for this,” _ Hermione said strongly. 

The student who muttered, Hermione was sure this was Annie, smirked.  _ “We won’t get caught.” _

“You do not need to worry about us,” Fleur whispered into Hermione’s neck.  _ “I’m not letting anyone hurt you. I won’t. Not again.” _

“I love you,” Hermione whispered back, adoration clear in her voice.

_ “Je t’aime aussi mon amour,” _ Fleur whispered reverently back.

They shared another kiss, much to the amusement and jeers of the other students.


	25. Hate Mail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I am terribly sorry about how long this has been. Honestly, personally, it's been a hell of a few months, with seemingly one thing after another. However, I'm now hopeful that my life is a little less stressful, and a little less chaotic, so I'm confident I can get back into the swing of writing. I'll be aiming to do at least one update a week, maybe two if I have the time, so fingers crossed!

The following morning, it was made clear that there were a lot of people outside of Hogwarts that believed Skeeter’s article. 

Hermione had gone to breakfast with Harry and Ron, after sneaking back into the castle late last night. Fleur had wanted Hermione to stay the night, but Hermione was insistent that she would not be changing her routine. Lavender and Parvati had given Hermione a brief update on their rumour spreading, hopeful that by mid-week it’ll be washed out.

As the trio took their seats, Hermione purposefully sat facing where the Beauxbaton delegation had congregated. She gave them all a small smile and wave, flushing slightly when Fleur winked back. When the post owls arrived, Hermione eagerly scanned over them.

“What’re you waiting for?” Ron asked Hermione, through a mouthful of food.

“I got a subscription to the Daily Prophet,” Hermione explained, scrunching her nose at the food leaking from Ron’s mouth. “It’s rather annoying having to get all our information second hand.”

Harry pointed up at an owl heading towards them. “Think you’re in luck, here’s one.”

Hermione glanced at it, before shaking her head. “It hasn’t got a paper though.” Just as she turned her attention back to her breakfast, the owl did, in fact, land in front of her. As she went to remove the letter, a further four owls landed on her plate, all hooting loudly.

Harry grabbed her goblet as an owl tipped it over. “How many subscriptions did you take out, Hermione?” He asked in bewilderment.

“Just the one,” Hermione replied, equally confused, as she pulled the letters from the owls. “Oh really!” Hermione spluttered out, as she read the first letter.

“What’s up?” Ron asked.

“It’s - oh - how ridiculous!” Hermione replied, passing the letter over to the boys. She let her eyes flick over to Fleur, where she sat, frowning at Hermione. Hermione shook her head slightly as Fleur rose, Claire and Alexander both moving to join her.

They both frowned as they read the letter, which was composed from pasted letters from the Daily Prophet.

_ You are a WickEd giRL. HaRRy PottEr desErves BettEr. gO Back wherE you cAME from mUggle. _

As they scanned the first note, more owls flew down to deposit letters. The trio eyed them carefully, as Hermione grabbed another, ripping it open. 

“They’re all like this!” Hermione said desperately, ripping open more letters. “Harry Potter can do better… You should be boiled in frog-spawn for what you’re doing… Ouch!”

Hermione had opened another envelope, which released a yellow-green liquid, smelling strongly of petrol, over her hands. Instantly, her hands swelled, developing large boils, and tears stung at her eyes as the letter was thrown onto her plate. Hermione’s watery eyes focused on attempting to unsuccessfully remove the offending liquid, even as she duly noted Ron identifying the Bubotuber Pus, and the harsh clicking of heels against the stone rushing closer.

“Oh,  _ mon dieu,  _ ‘Ermione,” Fleur breathed out, reaching to gingerly cradle Hermione’s hands, now resembling a pair of very bobbly gloves. Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione could make out Claire, Alexander, Harry, and Ron all carefully checking the other letters, before the former two burnt the pile to a crisp.

“You’d better get to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said, elbowing Ron in the side as they both stood. “We’ll tell Sprout where you are.”

Hermione could just nod, allowing Fleur to guide her out of the Hall, Claire and Alexander on their tail. The youngest girl was vaguely aware of Fleur seeming to growl at any student who got too close, eyes trained on the now leaking boils.

“W’at ‘appened?” Alexander finally asked, raising his hands in surrender as Fleur glared at him.

“Hate mail,” Hermione explained bluntly, leaning into her quivering girlfriend. “Undiluted Bubotuber Pus.”

“I will kill ‘er,” Fleur spat out, “I will kill zem all -”

“Calm down Fleur,” Claire sighed, jogging slightly ahead to open the Hospital Wing doors. “Eet was not all zat bad. We read ze rest.”

Alexander eyed Claire distrustfully, wondering briefly if she had read different letters to what he had seen.

“Oh Miss Granger,” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, rushing towards where she stood. “What’s happened now, surely you know better than to mess with Bubotuber Pus? Here, sit.” The matron made a sharp motion towards a bed, quickly turning back to gather potions from the end of the room.

“Fleur, you need to get off ze bed,” Alexander advised, as Fleur had yet to remove herself from Hermione’s side. “Do not look at me like zat, ‘ere, Claire get a chair.”

Claire scoffed at Alexander, but compiled all the same, dragging a chair to the bedside, just as Madam Pomfrey rushed back, arms filled with various potions.

“Miss Delacour,” Pomfrey sighed, “you need to remove yourself from Miss Granger, and do try to keep yourself calm.”

Fleur scowled, but shuffled off the bed and onto the chair Claire had pulled over. 

“What exactly happened, Miss Granger?” Madam Pomfrey asked, uncorking a vial.

“Someone sent it to me,” Hermione said weakly, scooting slightly closer to Fleur.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Pomfrey muttered, dumping the contents of a vial over Hermione’s hands. “That Skeeter woman, right? Has nothing better to do than rile up her silly readers.” Madam Pomfrey trailed off, in increasingly colour insults under her breath. Fleur growled slightly as Hermione winced, earning an eye roll from the Healer as she bustled away.

“You OK?” Hermione asked quietly, eyes trained on Fleur.

“I should be asking you zat,” Fleur replied. “You are ze one in ze Hospital.”

Hermione grinned slightly, waggling her hand mindful of the leaking boils. “It’s not a year at Hogwarts if I’m not in here at least once.”

_ “This school is a death trap, I swear,” _ Claire muttered to Alexander, arms crossed stiffly across her chest.

_ “Agreed,” _ Alexander whispered back, dusting off invisible dirt from his robes.

“But zis es my fault,” Fleur countered, ignoring the whisper conversation between the other two.

“Don’t you even dare start thinking like that Fleur Delacour,” Hermione firmly said. “It’s not your fault at all, I’m sure it would’ve happened regardless, considering how much Skeeter thought I was with Harry at the start of the year.”

Fleur made a choking noise in the back of her throat, shaking her head furiously. “Eet does not matter, I will better protect you.”

“Oh, is this that protectiveness coming out again?” Hermione teased lightly, holding her hands out as Madam Pomfrey came back.

_ “Non it’s just Fleur being all dramatic,” _ Alexander teased quietly to Claire, wincing as Fleur narrowed her eyes at him - the effect was lost slightly with the redness in her cheeks however.

“There’s no instant fix when it comes to Bubotuber now,” Madam Pomfrey advised, wrapping bandages around Hermione’s hands tightly. “You won’t be able to use your hands for a while, but the potions should stop any itching or stinging. You’ll need to apply it twice a day.”

“Of course, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione replied, wincing slightly as the matron tied off the bandages. 

“See to it she does, Miss Delacour,” Madam Pomfrey said to Fleur, handing over several vials of potions. “You’re all good to go, Miss Granger - do try to keep Potter from coming back in here at the end of the year, will you?” The Matron gave the students a quick flash of a smile, and patted Hermione on her shoulder softly, before heading back towards her office.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile before,” Hermione mused, taking Fleur’s offered arm to hop off the bed.

“Zere ees no one ‘ere, must be a good day for zis school,” Claire said, passing Hermione’s backpack to Fleur.

“Probably a record,” Alexander added, swinging an arm over Claire’s shoulders.

“First lesson is over,” Hermione glanced at her watch, frowning at the older students. “Weren’t you all meant to be in lessons?”

Fleur shrugged, keeping a steady arm around the Gryffindor. “You are more important zan zat.”

“And more interesting,” Claire added, leading the way out of the room. “W’at ‘ave you got now?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” Hermione said.

“We can walk you zere, and zen go to our class,” Fleur offered, nodding to the other two.

“You need to burn any ozzer mail you get, ‘Ermione,” Claire advised. “Zere may be a few who are clever enough to remember ‘ow send curses in letters.”

“I will.”

_ “Bon,” _ Alexander joined in, dragging Claire as he skipped down the stone steps outside. “Per’aps you should tell your family about it, Ros may be able to ‘elp.”

“I will,” Hermione repeated, stopping the group as they stood on the hill overlooking Hagrid’s Hut. She eyed the class lingering around a mound of dirt, following some black fluffy creatures around. “I guess I’ll see you all at lunch?”

Fleur’s eyes narrowed, studying the class below them. “Will ze green ones give you trouble?”

“You know they’re called Slytherins,” Hermione shook her head with Fleur’s insistence to only refer to the Hogwarts houses by colour. “I can handle myself, even when I can’t use my wand.”

“Zee did punch zat Malfoy boy,” Claire reminded Fleur with a grin plastered on her face. “I would love to actually see eet ‘appen.”

Alexander snorted, nodding eagerly before spinning Claire around to give the pair a bit of privacy.

Fleur rested her forehead against that of the smaller girl. “You better be careful,  _ oui?” _

“I promise,” Hermione smiled softly, pressing a chaste kiss against Fleur’s cheek. “And I’ll see you in a bit, alright?”

_ “Bon,” _ Fleur replied, giving Hermione a brief kiss. “You will, and remember, you cannot use your ‘ands,  _ mon amour.” _

Hermione allowed Fleur to deftly guide her backpack over her shoulder, before leaning in for a less than chaste kiss. Smiling smugly at the somewhat dazed expression on Fleur’s face, she called out her thanks to Claire and Alexander, who were giggling quietly to themselves, before trudging down to her class.

_ “Small issue Fleur,” _ Hermione heard Alexander call as she walked down the hill.  _ “We’ve maybe lost Gabrielle! Stop hitting me!” _

_ “You absolute morons! How could you lose her! She came into breakfast with you!”  _ Fleur shouted back, and Hermione could hear the repeated sounds of her hands slapping his arms.

The Gryffindor tried to contain her giggles as Hagrid waved her over. “There y’are Hermione!” He called.

“Hiya Hagrid, sorry I’m late,” Hermione replied, waving a heavily bandaged hand in apology, as she slipped in next to Harry and Ron. Pansy and Draco eyed Hermione, lips turned into a smirk at the bandages, but did nothing else.

“There Nifflers, right?” Hermione asked, watching a pair of the fluffy creatures appear from the ground, adding gold to a pile at the boys feet. “They’re really cute.”

“Yeah, they are,” Harry replied as Hermione crouched to study them closer. “Watch out, Hagrid said they like shiny stuff.”

“We’re having a competition,” Ron explained excitedly, as one Niffler sniffed at Hermione’s neck before scurrying back into the ground. “See who can get the most Galleons before the end of the lesson. Suppose it’s a bit late for you to join though.”

“That’s alright, they’re cute enough to look at,” Hermione said, smiling as the same Niffler as before deposited a few coins in front of her.

“Reckon they’ve got the lot now,” Hagrid called, waving the students over. “Bring yeh gold, let’s check how yeh’ve done - count yer coins! An’ there’s no point tryn’ steal any Goyle. It’s leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours.”

Goyle emptied his pockets sulkily, as Hagrid announced Ron the winner, giving him a rather large slab of chocolate. The trio hung back as the bell rang, and the rest of the class started heading towards the castle, whilst they helped get the Nifflers back into their boxes.

“Now what yeh done to yer hands, Hermione?” Hagrid asked, concerned, as they stood around the boxes.

“I got some hate mail this morning,” Hermione explained, nervously twisting her hands. “Skeeter’s article the other day.”

“Aaah, don’ worry,” Hagrid said gently, smiling down at the girl. “I got some o’ those letters an’ all. Jus’ nutters, the lot of ‘em. Don’ open any more, jus’ chuck ‘em straigh’ in a fire.”

“Thanks Hagrid,” Hermione smiled, carefully patting Hagrid’s arm in appreciation, before heading back to the castle with Harry and Ron.

“You’ve missed a real good lesson,” Harry said as they entered the castle. “They’re good Nifflers, aren’t they Ron? Ron?”

Ron was staring at the chocolate Hagrid gave him, frowning.

“What’s wrong with it?” Hermione asked, peering at the wrapper. “Is it the wrong flavour or something?”

“No,” Ron replied shortly, turning to frown at Harry. “Why didn’t you tell me about the gold, Harry?”

“What gold?” Harry asked, glancing briefly at Hermione who was equally confused.

“The gold from the Quidditch World Cup!” Ron said bluntly, his frown becoming deeper. “I gave you leprechaun gold for the Omnioculars - back in the Top Box. Why didn’t you tell me it disappeared?”

Realisation dawned slowly across Harry’s face, as they sat in the Great Hall. “Oh, I guess I just never noticed,” Harry said slowly, placing food on his plate. “I had other things on my mind that night, we both did. I was more worried about my wand, wasn’t I?”

“Must be nice,” Ron said bitterly, as he stabbed a potato with his fork. “To have so much money you don’t realise when a pocket full of gold goes missing.”

“Listen we both had other stuff on our mind, just leave it!” Harry said impatiently, adding food to Hermione’s plate when she struggled to do so.

Wherever the conversation went from there, Hermione did not pay it any mind, as Fleur sat down, Alexander and Claire notably absent.

“Everyzing alright?” Fleur asked Hermione, pressing a kiss to her cheek in greeting. She had to smother her giggle as Hermione shot a discerning look at Harry and Ron still arguing about the gold.

“Yeah, have you found Gabby yet?” Hermione frowned at her cutlery, trying to work out a way to eat without dropping them. Fleur sighed and plucked the fork from the plate, waggling her eyebrows as she levelled it with Hermione’s mouth.

“Gabby ‘ad been found by Madame Maxime,” Fleur explained, brows furrowing at Hermione’s exasperated look. “You need to eat, zis is ze best way,  _ non?” _

Hermione glared, only half in jest, before compiling and opening her mouth. She could appreciate the act, if only it wasn’t done in the Great Hall, in front of her entire school, Harry sniggering on her other side, and Ron’s open staring.

Over the next week, Hermione dutifully burned any hate mail she received. Whilst she did not need to wear the bandages, Hermione still had limited movement with them, and had spent an entire evening with both Katie and Amy teasing her relentlessly about Fleur’s feeding habits. Once her siblings had found out about the hate mail, they had increased their efforts to attempt to find some dirt on Rita Skeeter. However, that had led to this moment.

“Just why didn’t you tell us the same day, Hermione?” Ros questioned, her arms resting on her desk. Hermione had been surprised to find out that each Founder had their own office. Said office was now making Hermione feel rather like a naughtly child, trying not to squirm on her own chair. Hermione would rather have spent her Saturday with Fleur, trying to see how much kissing they could get in before other students realised they were alone in Fleur’s room.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” Hermione answered, hoping that it didn’t seem like a question. “And it all gets burned now.”

“Sweetie,” Maribel said calmly, finally releasing Hermione’s still healing hands in favour of running her hand up and down Hermione’s arm. “You still can’t use your hands because of one letter. And some curses can react badly to fire, causing more injuries.”

“You can’t burn Howlers,” Ros added seriously, clasping her fingers together. “I can imagine you’re also receiving a fair few of them.”

Hermione flushed, avoiding looking directly at Ros or Maribel. “I can ignore them?”

Ros just sighed in response. She flicked a glance to Maribel, who looked seconds away from pulling the young witch in for a hug. “‘Mione,” Ros tried a different approach, softening her tone and sighing. “I’m sure there’s a variation of the vanishing spell we can find to use on Howlers. If not a silencing one.”

“And don’t burn any letters inside,” Maribel chimed in. “Either you or someone else levitate them outside and far away, and then burn them. It’s too dangerous with some curses.”

“Not that any Witch Weekly readers could  _ perform _ that level of spell,” Ros muttered angrily under her breath. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered weakly. “I just don’t want to bother you, I mean, I know you’re both so busy, and I didn’t want to worry you or add -”

“No,” Maribel cut across, wrapping the young witch in her arms. _"Non,_ _ma chérie, non._ We are _never_ too busy for you, no matter how silly.”

Ros stood up from her seat, moving around the desk to crouch in front of Hermione. “Look at me, sweetie, look at me. You’re not a bother, never a bother. We’re  _ family, _ okay? It’s our job to worry. You think we don’t worry any less about Martin, or Lily? Or Hannah and Mike? Or any of our children before them? Because they’ve left home? We’re your parents, we’ll worry about you, even if you’re wrapped in bubble-wrap and in a padded room.”

Hermione nodded feebly, deflating against Maribel. “I’m sorry, I’m just causing problems this year.”

“No silly,” Maribel chided gently, placing a soft kiss on Hermione’s hair. “Never. And even if you did, you can still come to use, with any problems. We’ll help solve them with you.”

All Hermione could do was nod, watching as Ros ran her fingers over her still sore hands. The boils had healed into small bumps, and some had scabbed over. Madam Pomfrey had assured her a few days prior that they shouldn’t leave a scar, so long as the potion was still applied twice a day. Fleur had been combining it with some cream Appoline had sent, just to ensure there was no chance of scarring.

“We’ll find some better spells to deal with Howlers,” Ros finally promised. “I’ll go through the library tonight, send you any ideas in the morning.”

“Now,” Maribel said, bringing the other two witches' gaze away from Hermione’s healing hands. “I’m sure you don’t want to spend your Saturday with us, so is there anything else? Nothing is too much, remember.”

“No,” Hermione replied honestly, shaking her head. “No there isn’t.”

“Good, off you pop then sweetie,” Ros smiled, leaning over to kiss Hermione’s forehead. “We’ll owl you over some ideas for the Howlers.”

“Be careful!” Maribel called as Hermione walked out the door, eager to find Fleur.

“Now, what can we do with your desk before we head back,  _ mon  _ _ trésor?” _ Maribel teased Ros, giggling as Hermione gagged just outside the door.

“Ew ew gross,” Hermione muttered, walking away from the office as fast as could.

“What’s gross?” Evan asked, narrowly avoiding walking into Hermione as they rounded the same corner.

“Evan!” Hermione’s eyes widened, grabbing at her chest in surprise. “Sorry, I was trying to just get away.”

“From whatever is gross down that way?” Evan prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Ros and Maribel,” Hermione felt green at the thought. “They’re busy in her office.”

“And that’s gross because?”

“Getting  _ busy _ Evan.  _ Getting busy _ in her office.”

Evan also gagged loudly, shaking his head, and then joining Hermione in rushing back the way he came.


	26. A New Sibling

Hermione was, for the first time in a while, actually alone in the library. Harry and Ron were in the Common Room, playing Wizards Chess instead of doing their homework. The Beauxbaton delegation had all been kept in the Carriage, Madame Maxime forcing them into cleaning it from top to bottom, muggle-style, as a punishment for a party they had thrown for no reason other than boredom. Said party had resulted in three couches being torn, a chandelier falling down, and at least two rooms being set on fire. Hermione had been, thankfully, absent from that event, given that they threw it on a Tuesday night.

Hermione’s siblings were also all busy, especially as the end-of-year exams came closer. Despite it not even being Easter yet, her siblings were determined to make up time that they'd lost due to the Triwizard tasks. Ros and Maribel had sent letters to everyone that despite the Tournament, they were all still expected to make a decent showing on their results, especially with OWLs and NEWTs. So all of them had taken to increasing their efforts in their studies, Eve and Amy also having joined several study groups with their fellow Seventh Years.

“Uh, hey Hermione.”

The Gryffindor’s eyes shot up to look at the newcomer, her quil pausing in Hermione’s attempts to improve her Herbology essay. Malcolm Baddock, the First Year Slytherin she had been tutoring stood nervously on the other side of her table, his hands thrust into his pockets. She smiled sweetly at the younger boy, shuffling her books around to make space for him to sit down.

“You alright Malcolm?” Hermione asked, mentally reassuring herself that they do not have a study session scheduled today.

“I uh, have a question,” Malcolm replied quietly. The Slytherin glanced around the area, sitting down once he was sure no one was around. “About that Witch Weekly article?”

Hermione stiffened slightly, folding her hands in front of her. She forced herself to take a calming breath, before speaking. “What about it?”

“It said you were adopted?” Malcolm asked, tugging on the ends of his sleeves.

“Yeah, I was,” Hermione responded evenly. “After my first year.”

“Are there others?” Malcolm glanced up at the older girl briefly, before looking back down at the desk. “That are adopted, I mean.”

The Gryffindor frowned, suddenly remembering how scared the little First Year was, when she found him crying in the hallway. “Yes,” she finally said, her voice soft.

“Why?” He asked quietly, hunching his shoulders.

Hermione sighed softly, thinking her next words over in head. “Different reasons. I’m not going to tell you everyone’s stories - that’s their own to tell. However, that article did get _my_ story right in its own way. My - the Grangers moved after Christmas during my First Year. To Australia. They never told me, never even sent a letter, no goodbye.” The older girl spat the last bit out, still slightly bitter over the act. 

“I was alone at Kings Cross,” Hermione continued, furiously blinking away the tears that threatened to fall over. “Ros came up to me, after I’d been there for a few hours, hoping that the Grangers would come. She took me in, tried to find the Grangers, and then offered to let me join the family.”

“What about death?” Malcolm asked, so quietly it was hard for Hermione to hear in the silent Library. The Gryffindor bit at her lip, reaching across to hold Malcolm’s hands in a comforting clasp.

“There’s a few who have had their parents die, yes,” Hermione replied, just loud enough for Malcolm to hear. “Some just one, others both. No other family to take them in, so Ros and Maribel adopt them all.”

“I lied,” Malcolm suddenly said, his eyes searching for something in Hermione’s eyes. “That day you offered me studying help. I lied and said I was worried about my lessons. No one, I mean Emma knows, but no one else knows.” The younger boy’s voice got more desperate as he carried on, removing one of his hands from Hermione’s to swipe at his eyes.

“What about Malcolm?” Hermione asked softly, refusing to assume anything.

“They, my parents,” Malcolm’s voice hitched, his breath coming in uneven pants. He rushed through his next words, desperately trying to get them all out. “They died, they’re dead, they were attacked out shopping in Muggle London, it’s _my fault_ I said I liked some chocolate Emma had shared with me - she’s a half-blood you know - and they wanted to try it and get some for when I came home for Easter and they were attacked by some Muggle they didn’t even have time to react -”

“Malcolm, Malcolm it’s not your fault,” Hermione shushed him quietly, quickly moving around the table to sit next to the crying boy. “It’s not your fault, okay, it just happens.”

“But why them?” Malcolm asked, tears falling freely down his face. “They have - had - magic, they could have stopped it, but they didn’t even pull out their wands! They didn’t have _time_ the Muggle just just _killed_ them.”

“I know sweetie,” Hermione said, wrapping one arm over his shoulders whilst her other cast a quick notice-me-not charm around them. “I know. It just happens, I’m so sorry.” Hermione felt useless as Malcolm continued crying into her shoulders, all she could do was rub circles on his back.

A short while later Malcolm sniffed, pulling himself slightly away. “I’m sorry Hermione,” he mumbled. Hermione just smiled sadly, pulling a tissue out of her pocket and handing it over.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Hermione said simply, shrugging.

“Emma’s parents said I could stay with them, but they haven’t really got the space, and her grandparents are quite ill,” Malcolm trailed off, playing with the tissue in his hands.

“I’ll speak to Ros and Maribel,” Hermione offered, and gave the First Year a small smile. “We’ll sort something out.”

“Thank you Hermione,” Malcolm nodded, giving his own, weak, smile back in response. “Thank you so much.”

Hermione just smiled, waving her wand to dispel the charm she cast. “I’ll speak to them,” she repeated, as Malcolm pulled her in for a tight hug.

“I’m going to speak to Emma,” Malcolm said, letting Hermione go. “Thank you.” The Slytherin gave Hermione a jerky nod before racing out of the library.

Hermione watched after him until Malcolm rounded the corner of the door, disappearing from view, with a sad smile on her face. Once satisfied he was gone, she turned with a sigh back to her work, putting her books and essays in her backpack. She then pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, and quickly crafted a letter to Ros, explaining what happened to Malcolm.

Parchment clutched in hand, safely sealed in an envelope, Hermione briskly walked to the Owlery. Her pace did not falter as an arm was slung around her shoulders. “Can I borrow your owl please Amy?” Hermione asked instead.

“I see how it is,” Amy teased, adjusting her pace to keep up with the younger witch. “No ‘hi Amy, how’s NEWTs coming’ and no ‘I’m so glad you haven’t thrown yourself into the Whomping Willow to avoid your exams’.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, nudging into Amy. “I’m terribly sorry,” she drawled sarcastically. “How close are you to dropping out today?”

Amy sighed exasperatedly, holding her thumb and index mere millimetres apart. _“This_ close ‘Mione, this close. I don’t see how Diggory is studying for his NEWTs _and_ preparing for the Third Task.”

“They’re all exempt,” Hermione said offhandedly, pushing open the door for the Owlery steps. “Harry said Professor Dumbledore explained that they all get whatever results their professor’s give them - Fleur and Krum too.”

“What?” Amy exclaimed, eyes widening. “You’re telling me all I had to do to pass my NEWTs is to be part of this bloody death tournament?”

Hermione winced, mind flashing to Fleur and Harry, who won’t find out about the final task until after Easter.

Amy seemed to realise what she said, and began backtracking quickly. “Not that they’ll let that happen ‘Mione! Not with the thin ice Ros has Dumbledore on - one more toe out of line and I think Ros’ll let Maribel at him.”

“I know, I’ll still worry until after the Third Task, though,” Hermione admitted, leaning against a surprisingly clear patch of wall in the Owlery. Amy softly whistled her owl down from the rafters, humming as she stroked his feathers.

“I’m sorry, we’re all worried too,” Amy said, turning to Hermione with her owl expectantly holding its leg out.

“They’ll find out about the last task soon,” Hermione replied, deftly tying the letter onto the owl. “Just as long as it isn’t dragons again.”

Amy laughed, shaking her head and letting her owl fly out the window. “As long as it isn’t dragons,” she repeated. “What’re you sending a letter for anyway? Not more of your notes from previous years?”

“No,” the Gryffindor shook her head, slumping slightly. “It’s Malcolm - that firstie I tutor. His parents died a while ago, and he hasn’t got anyone else. One of his friends, Emma, offered to let him crash at hers but…”

“It’s not like home,” Amy finished sadly. Her own mother had passed away when she was younger, and her father died Halloween during her second year. “I get it. They’ll take him in ‘Mione. We’ll look after him.”

“I know,” Hermione offered the older Ravenclaw a weak smile. “House of strays, right?”

“And misfits,” Amy joked, nudging Hermione with her shoulder. “House of strays and misfits.”


	27. The Maze

Only a month had passed since the Witch Weekly article about Hermione, and despite the very public apology, there had still been a few whispers about her family through the halls. However, the witch was surprised that Malfoy had not openly said anything to her face. Although, all good things have to end, as she found out a few days into the Easter holiday.

Hermione was sitting in the courtyard, taking advantage of the unusually sunny day to complete her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. Her peaceful moment was abruptly interrupted by the appearance of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. The Gryffindor frowned up as they blocked her in, identical sneers in place.

“Well well well,” Malfoy jeered, peering down on Hermione. “Look who’s out boys, the little lying mudblood.”

“Oh get some new material, Malfoy,” Hermione spat, unceremoniously dumping her work in her backpack.

“Not only a disgrace to the wizarding world,” Malfoy continued, crossing his arms and smirking at his cronies. “But to drag the Noble House of Ravenclaw with you, how pathetic.”

“Yeah,” Crabbe grumbled in agreement, Goyle nodding along.

“Shouldn’t even let your sort in at Hogwarts,” Malfoy laughed cruelly, stepping forward as Hermione stood up. “But I am surprised that you haven’t been expelled yet, you know? My father has been working with the Board to do so.”

“Has he now?” Hermione asked, genuine surprise colouring her tone. “I didn’t think he was on the Board now, after he was  _ fired. _ But then, I guess your little father will tell you anything, right? Just to make his pompous git of a son have some sort of fake power.”

Malfoy frowned, pulling his wand out in anger, followed quickly by Crabbe and Goyle. “Now you better watch your mouth, around your superiors, you filthy little -”

“Unless you want  _ another _ broken nose,” Hermione interrupted sharply. “I’d watch your own mouth.”

“You can’t talk to me like that,” Malfoy spat out, although he did take a small step back. “We outnumber you, and you haven’t got your little friends to protect you now.”

“Get out of my face, Malfoy, and get some new material,” Hermione warned, temping the urge to let her wand drop out of its holster.

“Or what?” Malfoy scoffed. He looked around the otherwise empty courtyard and spun his wand. “You’re outnumbered,  _ outclassed, _ and you’re nothing more than a filthy little  _ mudblood.” _

“What did you just say, blondie?” Eddie called, strolling towards the group with Luke and Evan in tow. They had rounded the corner into the courtyard just as Malfoy stepped closer to Hermione again.

“I think,” Evan continued, readjusting his bag. “That blondie and the two gargoyles have just insulted  _ our _ sister.”

“I agree,” Luke added, pushing his sleeves up over his elbows. “And three against one, not very fair now is it.”

“Oh no, not fair at all,” Eddie jumped back in. “Especially not against a woman. But three against three, I think that’s a lot fairer.”

“We weren’t talking to you,” Malfoy finally managed to spit out, his eyes twitching in nerves. All three boys were his senior, the match now skewed against his favour.

“No,” Luke agreed, talking to Malfoy as one might talk to a baby. “You just cornered our sister in, so I think you are going to talk to us now.”

“As fun as it would be to see Hermione rip you all into shreds, it’s just not very becoming of a gentleman, is it?” Evan asked, inspecting the nails on one of his hands. Hermione used the small distraction to slip out from behind the Slytherins, joining her brothers. Eddie slung an arm over her, narrowing his eyes at the other boys.

“But then, everyone knows the Malfoy’s have generations of issues, don’t we,” Eddie said, his voice unfalteringly cold. “Tell me, blondie, what barrel bottom were you scraped off?”

Goyle took a heavy step forward, cracking his knuckles threatenly. Hermione scoffed at the useless power play, still being held tight against Eddie.

“Get lost,” Evan said dismissively, rolling his wand over his fingers. Hermione wasn’t entirely sure when he pulled it out, but noted that he took half a step to be in front of her.

Malfoy’s eyes glanced between the Ravenclaw siblings and his own backup. He seemed to be weighing up his options.

“You’re taking too long,” Eddie snapped, eye’s narrowing dangerously. “You either get lost, or we’ll show you what the  _ Most Ancient and Noble _ House of Ravenclaw does to those who piss them off.”

“C’mon,” Malfoy muttered angrily to Crabbe and Goyle, storming off towards the castle, none of them dare risk looking back.

Before any of the other siblings could react, Evan’s wand had shot up, sending a bolt of light at the three figures. “Too slow!” He shouted, at the same time that the three boys squeaked, and broke into a run.

“What was that?” Luke asked, as Eddie spun Hermione out to look over her for injuries.

Evan gave Luke a small sort of evil grin, tapping his nose pointedly. “If Maribel’s notes are right, we’ll see later.”

“It won’t get traced back to you, will it?” Hermione asked, concerned, once Eddie was certain she wasn’t hurt.

“Course not ‘Mione,” Evan smiled as Hermione ducked to avoid his hand messing up her hair. “Have some faith.”

“Well thank you guys,” Hermione said happily. “I’m not sure how I could’ve gotten out of that.”

Luke nudged Hermione’s shoulder, grinning, as Eddie grabbed her bag. “Like they’d do anything other than stand there and parade around,” Luke snorted, shaking his head.

“Crabbe and Goyle maybe,” Hermione agreed, only frowning as Eddie slung her bag over his shoulder and held out his other arm for her to grab. “Malfoy could probably throw a spell or few.”

“Like they’ve got any chance of beating you,” Evan said, sticking his nose in the air dramatically. “Anyway, it’s almost lunch, we’ll head in with you.”

Hermione laughed loudly, gripping tightly onto Eddie’s arm as they all skipped towards the Great Hall, gaining quite a few looks from their fellow students. They deposited Hermione with Katie at the Gryffindor table, before sitting down at their own tables.

“Everything okay?” Katie asked, sliding her Charms book into her bag.

“Yeah, they just rescued me from Malfoy is all,” Hermione explained, flashing a grateful smile to their brothers.

At the same time, a loud bang went off in the Hall, all eyes turning towards three Slytherin students. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle all suddenly shot up, feathers sprouting across their faces. Laughter erupted when Malfoy suddenly squawked, his hand slapping over his mouth. The trio tried to high-tail it out of the Hall, but before Crabbe and Goyle could make it, they started squawking, flapping their elbows like a chicken. After a few more moments clucking around the Hall, Crabbe and Goyle managed to make it out the doors, chasing after Malfoy. Chatter soon resumed, replacing the laughter, many conversations focused around the sudden transformation.

“Take it, that's one of the spells Maribel sent over?” Kaite asked through her bouts of laughter, catching Hermione’s eyes.

“Yeah, Evan used it,” Hermione explained with a big smile. “Guess he’ll be reporting that one back.”

“What did Malfoy say to you anyway?” Katie turned back to her lunch, nudging Hermione to start filling her plate.

Hermione shrugged, “same old, really. They need better insults, I thought he was more creative than that.”

Katie snorted, covering it with a cough. “He wasted all his energy on those stupid badges, I guess.”

“Probably,” Hermione agreed. After they had both eaten their lunch, Hermione continued talking. “I need to go over one of my Potions essays, how’s your OWL prep coming along?”

Katie sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Horribly, absolutely horrible. I’ll join you, otherwise I’m going to throw myself down some stairs.”

“You do know Madam Pomfrey will fix you long before any exam starts, right?” Hermione teased, allowing the older Gryffindor to lead the way out of the Great Hall.

“Shush, don’t you go ruining my fun!” Katie exclaimed, pushing Hermione’s shoulder in jest.

The rest of the Easter holidays passed in a blur. The small egg that Mrs Weasley had sent Hermione - who was clearly a beloved reader of Witch Weekly - was overshadowed by the much larger chocolate eggs that Appoline Delacour and her Ravenclaw parents had sent to her. Hermione had successfully stopped any idea Katie had of getting out of her OWLs, and had been roped in with the Beauxbaton delegation to entertain Gabby, in order to keep her out of trouble.

All too soon, however, it was May at Hogwarts. Hermione had been slowly counting down the days until Fleur and Harry found out about the Third Task. Fleur had tried to stop her from worrying to little avail. Alexander had, finally, in a last resort, shown the honorary student Fleur’s training schedule, which seemed to divert Hermione’s focus onto Harry’s preparation for the Task.

In the last week of May, as Hermione tried to get Ron to focus on his upcoming exams, the champions found out about the Third Task.

Fleur made the short walk from the Carriage to the Quidditch pitch, her head held high, despite the nerves that seemed to have settled permanently in her stomach. Her fellow students had all been coming up with ridiculous ideas on what the final Task might entail. Fleur’s personal favourite was that it involved tunnels underground and finding something.

As the Beauxbaton champion rounded onto the Quidditch Pitch, her breath hitched in her throat. Fleur’s eyes widened as she took in the low criss-crossing walls that now filled the ground stadium.

_ “Hedges,” _ she mumbled to herself, reaching down to touch the closest one.

“Hello there!” Fleur straightened up at Bagman’s cheery voice. Over near the middle of the now overgrown pitch, stood Viktor Krum and Ludo Bagman. Fleur started making her way over, carefully stepping over each hedge.

“‘Ello,” Fleur nodded to the other two, as she joined them in the middle. Krum merely nodded in return. Fleur couldn’t help but wonder whether the Durmstrang champion knew how much advice this one judge was offering Harry.

“Just waiting on Harry and Cedric,” Bagman explained before whistling a jaunty tune. Krum and Fleur exchanged glances before examining the hedges surrounding them. Thankfully, it was only a few moments later when Harry and Cedric Diggory appeared, both of them seeming less than happy about the new additions to their stadium.

“Well, what d’you think?” Bagman asked the four champions cheerfully, as the Hogwarts duo joined them. “Growing nicely, right? Hagrid’ll have them twenty foot high in about a month!” He seemed to have spotted the less than happy looks on Harry and Cedric, as he quickly continued, “don’t worry! You’ll have your Quidditch pitch back to normal once the Task is over! Now, I can imagine you can guess what we’re making here?”

No one spoke for a moment, and Fleur reached the conclusion the same time Krum spoke.

“Maze,” he said gruffly.

“That’s right!” Bagman exclaimed, rocking on the balls of his feet. “A maze. Very straightforward, this one. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the middle of the maze, and the first champion to touch it is the winner!”

“We simply have to get through the maze?” Cedric asked, disbelief clear in his voice. Fleur couldn’t help but silently agree that it seems too easy.

“There will be obstacles,” Bagman admitted happily. “Hagrid is providing a number of creatures, and there will be spells, all that sort of thing. Now, you’ll be entering in points order, so Miss Delacour, you’ll enter first, followed by Harry, then Mr Diggory, and finally Mr Krum. But you’ll all have a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, right?”

Fleur couldn’t help but feel it would be anything but fun, especially if Hermione’s stories about Hagrid and his creatures held any truth. However, she nodded politely along with the other champions.

“Well then,” Bagman rubbed his hands together as the silence dragged on. “If there’s no questions, we best head back up to the castle… Bit chilly you know.”

The four champions nodded again, and began winding their way over the hedges, towards the exit. Fleur took the time to look out over the growing maze, letting the rest of the group move in front of her. Bagman tried to hurry forward, and keep pace with Harry, although the youngest champion turned to talk quietly to Cedric.

Fleur breathed a quiet sigh of relief when they finally exited the pitch. Harry and Cedric began walking back towards the castle, Bagman following some distance behind. Krum offered a parting nod towards Fleur, before walking a long loop back to the ship. Fleur, herself, took the shortest route back towards her own Carriage, only stopping to briefly look over the Abraxan’s in their paddock. A nervous air met her when she returned to the Carriage, as the students waited downstairs to hear what the final Task would be.

If Fleur had looked towards the Forbidden Forest on her way back, she might have been able to see Barty Crouch stumble out, muttering to himself, and a hooded figure drag him back into the dark depths.


End file.
